When You Took Me Out to the Ball Game

Dear John,

 

I had a good, busy day at work - not only is it Friday, but it's Friday before a holiday weekend. After twenty years in critical care, I don't mind busy. It was good.

 

Today I've been feeling grateful for this job. It was payday, which always helps, but it's more than the fact that I'm expecting solvency to arrive soon. This afternoon I realized how much I have learned in the last month. It's a whole new area of study for me, and it's good for me to stretch my brain in a new direction. After all, Mythbusters determined that you can teach an old dog new tricks.

 

I saw Harry yesterday. He was telling me about going to a game at Wrigley last week, and I've been remembering all the games we went to. And there were a lot of them - when we lived in South Bend, we went to at least twenty games a year and had our regular seats with our little group in the left field bleachers. I remember having fun with the other team's outfielders during batting practice - remember the throwing contest Orel Herschizer had with the fans? And there was that Expos game when that guy had the most delightfully obscene parody of O Canada. You had a reputation for being the only real, actual bleacher preacher, and I was known for being the only person in the bleachers that not only kept score, but kept pitch counts. We loved our little group of friends. And after the games we'd go to Leona's for dinner before driving home. And we'd both reek of garlic for days.

 

There are so many good memories. Wrigley is one place I can't imagine going without you. Even baseball on television is hard to watch without you. Watching it with you, going to games together, learning from you, watching you umpire, keeping score for the Goshen Men's League tournaments - all those memories are so rich and wonderful. But they make baseball quite uncomfortable still. No, I can't imagine going to Wrigley again.

 

But I have so many wonderful memories, and I'm grateful. If you were here, we'd certainly get there to celebrate the 100th Anniversary. Maybe you will get to go - if so, think about me. And them come and tell me all about it.

 

Thank you for taking me out to the ball game,

Joan.