Little did I know the role the Dodgers would play in our lives when I married Keith. I heard the stories when were were dating about growing up on the same street with his all time favorite Dodger, Ron Fairley (apparently he would use a bucket of golf balls for batting practice) and two other Dodgers, playing ball on the street with their kids and, sometimes, the players themselves. I assumed that was the past. After we married, we moved to Los Angeles and I learned that life changes when the Dodgers play. In the early years, Keith couldn’t understand why my satisfaction with life didn’t float with the Dodger win/loss record. I didn’t understand why we had to get to a game before the third inning and stay after the stretch, it only took me four innings to eat my hot dog and drink my beer. Quickly, we came to a compromise, I would go with him to Dodger games and he would accompany me to concerts at the Hollywood Bowl. This post-season looked liked it would provide Keith with an emotional high, but it wasn’t to be. As part of his long goodbye to the Dodger 2009 season, Keith agreed to write this post:
Fall is my favorite time of the year. It is a combination of the weather finally (if temporarily) cooling down, fires once again being lit in our fireplace, and Kim cooking warm and hearty food for dinner. OK, while all those things are great, the best part of the fall is the World Series. As a life-long Dodgers’ fan, I am disappointed that they didn’t make it all the way, but I take some measure of comfort that they only lost because Philadelphia had a better team who played up to their potential. However, I grew up the son of a Brooklyn Dodger fan so I was looking for a great baseball book to dull the pain of the Dodger’s loss.
My wife’s suggestion was to check out The Entitled by Frank Deford. Deford, of National Public Radio and Sports Illustrated fame, writes a fast moving, engaging novel of a baseball manager who finally gets his chance to coach in the big leagues. The manager, Howie Traveler, had spent his entire life playing, watching, thinking about and talking baseball. From a baseball “prospect,” to an “all most, a fill in, a “tweener,” Howie was destined to never make it as a player because he was cursed with being a right handed batter who lacked power. After spending years in the minors, he only spent 8 days in the majors. Howie’s love for the game transcended his limited abilities as a player. He just loved being around the diamond and was always accepted as a “baseball man.”
It was fairly easy for Howie to become a minor league manager, but his life’s dream was to manage in the big leagues. His problem was that he had spent Read the rest of this entry »
I’m a little sleep deprived and it’s due to the World Cup. In Los Angeles, some of the games are broadcast at 4AM (I haven’t seen one of those), some at 6:30AM (I’m joining those at about half time and since the score is usually 0 – 0, I don’t regret the extra sleep) and others at 11:30. I’ve traveled around town a bit during lunch to watch the “late” game, one day at a sports cafe, another at a Mexican restaurant (when Mexico played South Africa), a then Brazilian bar and tomorrow an English pub. I can’t travel to South Africa this year, but in culinary terms I’m traveling the world.
Claire
Kim
