A special bond

Baseball, among other sports are passed down through generations. As I’ve mentioned before, baseball is a piece of me. To me, listening to a game on the radio is relaxing and there is a special indescribable feeling to it, that I will try and explain in a future post. For the purpose of this topic, listening to baseball on the radio reminds me of my childhood. 

Growing up, we didn’t have cable until I was about 10 years old. Every night, the second my dad walked in the door, I asked “is the game [Red Sox] on TV tonight?” Most nights, the answer would be “no, but we can listen to it on the radio after dinner.” One night a week, which I later learned was Friday, UPN38 carried the game, so every Friday, my dad and I sat down and watched. Sitting on the family room couch, watching Sean McDonough and Bob Montgomery announce the game for UPN38, my dad suggested, “when you are older, you can announce the games.” I thought that my dad was crazy, I never envisioned myself being on TV, especially the play by play announcer, like McDonough. I idolized McDonough and Montgomery and thought, “if I’m an announcer, I’m going to be the analyst, because they don’t talk as much as the play by play and analyzing the plays is more interesting.” Ever since my dad suggested working in baseball and TV, I’ve always dreamed to make it a reality. It has gone through some twists and turns, but it’s always been in the back of my mind.

I still picture myself, in elementary school, sitting on the edge of the couch, wishing I could be closer to the old television. Sometimes, I would move closer and sit on the floor looking up at the TV, so I could see all of the action and pretend that I was at the game. 

Today is the last day of the 2011 regular season. The Red Sox have just blown a 9 game lead and are tied with the Tampa Bay Rays for the American League wild card. Throughout September, I keep thinking about the various Red Sox collapses. For as long as I can remember, I can recite the year, the opponent, the event and who committed the event that led to the Red Sox loss. My dad passed down the events because he witnessed a few of them and as a new fan, I needed the knowledge. This year, I keep thinking about 1978 and Bucky Dent’s home run during the one game playoff, which gave the Yankees the lead and the eventual win. Last week after listening to the Sox lose again, I texted my dad because I wanted to watch all of the other historic losses such as 1976, 1986, and 2003. He told me to watch Luis Aparicio miss third base in 1972 and I added it to my list. My dad and I share a special bond and I know that I can always talk to him about the Red Sox or baseball. He remembers when the Sox struggled and broke his heart, and he shared those memories with me. 

Baseball is special because it is passed down through the generations. Father to son, father to daughter, mother to son or mother to daughter. Most stories are about grandfather to son to his son, but in my case, it’s father to daughter. We have spent many afternoons, nights and mornings talking about baseball. I always say that I learned how to read from the “Boston Globe” sports page and “Sports Illustrated.”

My dad and I sat at the kitchen table each morning and he taught me how to read a box score, “how the runs were scored,” the standings and how to calculate “games back.” One of my fondest “Sports Illustrated” memories is, sitting on the kitchen counter reading “is this a sport?” to my dad and before sharing what the athletes thought, I had to get his opinion. After he answered the question, I finished reading the table to him. 

Today there is an argument that football is overtaking baseball as our “national pastime.” Is it because of technology? Or, in my case, children move away from their parents, so now it is harder for me to watch/attend the game with my dad? Are we more busy today than in the past where the whole family crowded around the one radio and listened to the game? Or is baseball “too slow” for today’s fast paced society?

Quote: “Losing streaks are funny. If you lose at the beginning, you got off to a bad start. If you lose in the middle of the season, you are in a slump. If you lose at the end, you’re choking.” - Gene Mauch