The year was 1997. I was ten years old. The leaves were changing color, and the air was getting crisper. I was in fourth grade learning how to multiply and divide. But something was different about that Fall.
If you walked into my family's house you would most likely find my father watching the Major League Baseball World Series. The two teams involved in this year's battle were the Florida Marlins and the Cleveland Indians.Now, most of you who know me may recall that I was born a St. Louis Cardinals fan....yes, born. My father's family is native to southeast Missouri. Some families let their children choose their own sports teams...my family made the decision for me. If you look through our family photo albums, you will find numerous pictures of me arrayed in St. Louis attire.
My parents can correct me if I am wrong, but I am fairly certain I attended my first Cardinal game as an infant or a toddler. Cardinal baseball was a way of life for me. There was just one predicament. I hated watching baseball. It was sooo boring! I had no clue what they were doing! I had so many questions: How many times do they get to hit the ball? What is an inning? Why do some hitters stand on the right side of home plate and some stand on the left? Why don't they have a coach? Isn't the catcher afraid of getting hit by the bat? And how in the world do they get the grass to look like that? I think my father had tried to explain all of it to me, but I was not ready to understand it.
Then the Fall of 1997 came. Maybe it was because I was in the fourth grade, and I now knew how to multiply and divide. Maybe it was because I had a crush on a boy who was a Cub's fan. Maybe it was because I had finally reached double digits. For whatever reason, my father decided to sit me down and explain the game of baseball. As we watched the Marlins and the Indians rival for the trophy, my dad taught me about strikes and balls. "What is a ball?" "A ball is when the pitcher throws the ball outside the strike zone. If he throws four of those, the batter gets to walk to first base." I was amazed to discover that a batter can foul a ball forever...there is no limit. I learned about perspective and that the catcher is actually far enough behind the batter, so he cannot get hit by the bat. My dad taught me about home runs, and the even cooler term "grand-slam home run." I think I might have called it a slam-dunk home run for a while. ;-) My dad answered all of my questions (well, almost) and suddenly, baseball became interesting to me. I could sit and watch for hours. I was excited about the game! Even though the Cardinals were not involved in this World Series, I had developed a new-found passion for this game. I was addicted.
The year is 2011. I am 24 years old. Many leaves have fallen from their trees, and the air is definitely crisper. I have a bachelor's degree, and am now an expert at multiplication and division. This year, the Cardinals have made it to the World Series...something they weren't supposed to do. They barely procured the wildcard! They made it past the Phillies, the team that was supposed to win it all this year. They clashed with the Brewers, the year-long leaders of the Central Division, and eventually overpowered them to claim the National League Championship. Now they are headed to The Series! For the third time in my life, I will be enjoying the World Series in Cardinal red!
Thanks for teaching me the game of baseball, Dad! I have loved watching countless games with you and Papa. We have so many memories of yelling at the t.v., mocking the Cub's players, crying over losses, and cheering (rather loudly) for the victories. I look forward to watching many more games with you guys. ;-)
P.S. Thank you for answering almost all of my questions about baseball, but for real...how do they get the grass to look like that? ;-)
Let's Go Cards!
If you walked into my family's house you would most likely find my father watching the Major League Baseball World Series. The two teams involved in this year's battle were the Florida Marlins and the Cleveland Indians.Now, most of you who know me may recall that I was born a St. Louis Cardinals fan....yes, born. My father's family is native to southeast Missouri. Some families let their children choose their own sports teams...my family made the decision for me. If you look through our family photo albums, you will find numerous pictures of me arrayed in St. Louis attire.
Then the Fall of 1997 came. Maybe it was because I was in the fourth grade, and I now knew how to multiply and divide. Maybe it was because I had a crush on a boy who was a Cub's fan. Maybe it was because I had finally reached double digits. For whatever reason, my father decided to sit me down and explain the game of baseball. As we watched the Marlins and the Indians rival for the trophy, my dad taught me about strikes and balls. "What is a ball?" "A ball is when the pitcher throws the ball outside the strike zone. If he throws four of those, the batter gets to walk to first base." I was amazed to discover that a batter can foul a ball forever...there is no limit. I learned about perspective and that the catcher is actually far enough behind the batter, so he cannot get hit by the bat. My dad taught me about home runs, and the even cooler term "grand-slam home run." I think I might have called it a slam-dunk home run for a while. ;-) My dad answered all of my questions (well, almost) and suddenly, baseball became interesting to me. I could sit and watch for hours. I was excited about the game! Even though the Cardinals were not involved in this World Series, I had developed a new-found passion for this game. I was addicted.
The year is 2011. I am 24 years old. Many leaves have fallen from their trees, and the air is definitely crisper. I have a bachelor's degree, and am now an expert at multiplication and division. This year, the Cardinals have made it to the World Series...something they weren't supposed to do. They barely procured the wildcard! They made it past the Phillies, the team that was supposed to win it all this year. They clashed with the Brewers, the year-long leaders of the Central Division, and eventually overpowered them to claim the National League Championship. Now they are headed to The Series! For the third time in my life, I will be enjoying the World Series in Cardinal red!
Thanks for teaching me the game of baseball, Dad! I have loved watching countless games with you and Papa. We have so many memories of yelling at the t.v., mocking the Cub's players, crying over losses, and cheering (rather loudly) for the victories. I look forward to watching many more games with you guys. ;-)
P.S. Thank you for answering almost all of my questions about baseball, but for real...how do they get the grass to look like that? ;-)
Let's Go Cards!
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~ Angie