Wednesday, November 2, 2016

If They Don't Win It's a Shame

I'm Talkin’ Baseball

It’s been an exciting October in my house. First, Fella’s and, by no fault of their own, the kids’ team (the Giants) played my team (DA Cubs) in the NLDS. Realizing it is an even year, the odds...were in no team’s favor, because that’s just lore (and I can say that because it’s also history and I know how it turned out).

Bring on the Dodgers

Despite besting the hometown team around these parts, choosing a team to back in the NLDC was your basic no-brainer: DA Cubs. I mean, Duck the Fodgers...amirite?! Because we ain’t afraid of no goats. And (SPOILER ALERT) the Titanic sinks at the end.

Since 1908, You Guys

Throughout this World Series, we’ve been thinking a lot about my Grampa. Earlier this year was the 20th anniversary of his passing, a day before my 19th birthday. He loved playing cards (no family gathering was complete until after the dining room was transformed into a poker table), a day at the track (my mom has fond memories of his generosity with his winnings), and sports in general (the Cubs very specifically).

I remember him faithfully sitting in his armchair in his tv room, tuned into his Cubbies on WGN, and armed with provisions of Diet 7Up, Keebler butter pretzel twists, and Velamints. I’m sure I sat on his lap a time or two, as long as my attention span could stand being torn away from the latest and greatest Mattel has to offer in a bright pink box.

Do They Get Fox Sports in Heaven?*

No matter how many memories others share about him, I still feel like he passed away before I could truly know him. I wish I had been to a game at Wrigley with him. I wish I could remember whether he saw me play softball as a kid. I wish he could have been here to watch this World Series. But he can rest easy knowing his grandchildren and great grandchildren (despite the geographical circumstances of their birth) were all holding vigil for Gus’ home least until bedtime.

*I kinda hope not. Because Joe Buck.


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