Hello blogosphere, it’s been a few weeks…a completely unintended borderline hibernation, in fact. Anyway, as a result of the time off, my brain is a jumble of what to blog about first…especially because the Angels have had quite the quiet January, a very good thing really, considering the team is basically set at this point. So, here goes:
I adored the interview with Joan Jett on Hot Stove last Friday. I’ve always loved her music and I had a vague idea that she’s an O’s fan, but I had no idea exactly how much of a kick ass baseball fan she is until the interview. I giggled and cheered when she said, perfectly mater of factly, that she keeps an iPad on stage, open to the MLB Gameday Ap when she tours during baseball season. *flashes the universal sign for ‘rock on’ with genuine enthusiasm* It’s always nice to hear how absolutely not alone I am in being unable to refrain from checking…okay, being all but glued to…the Gameday Ap at wholly inappropriate times.
I’m sure that, by now, everyone has seen the second trailer for 42 but just in case…
I cannot tell you how excited I am for this movie. Wow! The trailer looks so good, that it literally gives me goose bumps of anticipation. I can’t wait! On another note, what does is say about me that the perfectly real crack of the ball on that bat at the end is absolutely music to my offseason ears? You know, other than nutcase? In all seriousness, I think that sound is good therapy for the offseason blues. Until someone either invents a “Crack O’the Bat” white noise generator for baseball fans, or Spring Training games start airing, I recommend watching the trailer every few days…and I know that only some of you are judging me right now while the rest are nodding right along. 😉
So, as I mentioned, I hadn’t planned on hibernating for any length of time this offseason. But, sadly, I’m coming to find that Januarys may just find me mopey and unproductive for the foreseeable future. One year ago my husband and I lost our best friend, Chet. I assumed that the anniversary of his death wouldn’t hit me so hard, but I was reminded once again that there really is no timetable for mourning. However, it is infinitely better to mourn than to forget and sharing good memories definitely takes the raw edge off. As it happens, a few of the many happy memories that have been getting us through this time are centered around the Angels. One of the last times we three hung out together before Chet started to get really sick was at the Angels’ Labor Day game against the Mariners.
Chet hadn’t been to a baseball game since he was a kid and he really enjoyed being back in a ballpark. The weather was perfect. It was a good game that ended with a lit halo and the outfield featured my then favorite Mike Trout, Peter Bourjos, Torii Hunter combo and Chet was really taken with the athleticism of Torii and the youngsters and with Mark Trumbo’s bat. He asked shrewd questions about the players and the mixed bag of a season. At one point, Trout came flying into the stands just a few rows in front of our left field field box seats and, after we all oohed and ahhed over the near catch, Chet added a hearty, “Ladies, you need a fishing license to keep a Trout that big” to our usual joking about how balls flying into the stands might make fine souvenirs but the ever present crowd of sign waving Trout/Bourjos/Trumbo admirers still needed to give the outfielders back.
Another memory that makes me smile from that game — there were two very good looking young women, one of them definitely my friend’s type, sitting a few rows in front of us one section over and I noticed him noticing them a few times in between innings. When they got up at one point with all signs pointing toward a beer run, Chet donned a pair of sunglasses to watch them more closely with such subtlety and smoothness — seriously, there are not enough Os in smooth to describe the skill of this maneuver — that I would have never picked up on what he was really doing, were it not for one detail…the sun had been down for about an inning at this point, a fact I pointed out once the ladies were well out of earshot. I will always remember Chet’s wonderful laugh in response — he had such a great laugh and this is the memory where I can most hear it loud and clear! — and the half sheepish, half mischievous smile on his face. However, I do wish he’d taken me up on my suggestion that we clearly needed more beer at that point. 😉
Anyway, Chet had a good enough time that for the small remaining part of the season he watched Angels baseball on TV and called or texted us to chat about the games, ask questions and argue over minutiae, you know, as you do. Baseball on TV is such an economical, feel good way to get your entertainment with plenty of substance for your brain to chew on that he got sucked back in, which is oddly and appropriately parallel to how Seth and I got back in to baseball years before. I will always wish I had more time with Chet. As another friend observed when a bunch of us got together to toast his memory on the actual anniversary, ‘However long you knew Chet, however much time you spent together, none of us got enough time.’ But I will always be grateful to that silly, attended completely on a whim, Angels game for giving us just one more reason to hang out, to chat, to build the kind of memories that make you smile and laugh.
Listening to all of the historical retrospectives on the news and writing a bit about Martin Luther King Day for work – nope, no Monday holiday in my industry – got me thinking a lot today about courage, history, equality and baseball…okay the baseball part is pretty much always droning away in the back of my thoughts these days, but you get the general idea.
I have always been proud of Major League Baseball for breaking the color barrier and playing its own part in the history of the Civil Rights Movement all on its own, without government mandate and for what, to my mind, was the best reason of all – Jackie Robinson was good baseball player and would have been an asset to any team.
Of course this act of bravery, on the parts of Robinson, the Dodgers and Major League Baseball as an institution, was just one action. And one action on its own could never solve all of our nation’s problems with racial discrimination. One action couldn’t even solve all of baseball’s issues on that front. But it was a crucial step that opened the door for other players of color to join the league and for all of America to see them playing well and together with white players, to see players of all colors showing the same amazing athletic ability, teamwork, brotherhood and honor on the athletic field of battle. Eyes, minds and hearts were opened and this became one more brave action helping to affirm all of the brave efforts at integration that preceded it and helping to set the stage and inspire all of the brave acts that were to follow.
When we work and play together, we see each other for what we really are as individuals and it becomes harder and harder to hold onto false assumptions until the relationships that result are actually based on something real. This is a concept that we all know instinctively as children but often forget as adults. Baseball offered a refresher course in this all important lesson to a generation of Americans and many took it to heart…many should continue to take it to heart today. It was one action, but it was one loud, crucial action. Whatever the sport’s current popularity may be in relation to other sports, for this reason more than any other, baseball will always be the real national pastime for me.