Passing On The Legacy: Baseball’s Renewal
One doesn’t have to look hard to find articles speaking to the doom and gloom of baseball as a sport. Articles seem to be a regular occurrence reviewing how inner city involvement (or lack thereof) is driving baseball’s decline, or a racial divide is driving the decline, or even how the time of the game itself is going to be the end of the game of baseball as we know it.
I’m here to tell you that doesn’t have to be. We baseball fans are part of a great legacy, a group of privileged few who were shown the game by someone and had the game nurtured in our hearts by still others, and now use other fans to continue to fan the flames of our passion for the game. The problem is that so few of us are passing on the game. Sure, we encourage our kids to go to Little League or even take them to a few ball games, but I’m talking deeper than that, more than just the surface level of baseball.
I am currently in the midst of a two-week honeymoon that includes 10 baseball games in 10 stadiums. As you read this article, I’ll be working my way to Fenway Park to take in my first game ever at that beautiful venue, and I will be cheering on the Braves with all I have.
The thing is, I will struggle to have my heart in the day most of the day tomorrow. You see, my grandfather passed away last Wednesday, and his funeral was earlier Monday afternoon. My grandfather is one of the big reasons that I’m a baseball nut, and without the time I spent with him in the last couple of weeks, I may not have ever been able to leave on this trip knowing that I’d miss his funeral service.
I was blessed with two family members who really spoke baseball into my life. My mother’s grandmother really started the Braves fire within me when she spoke so eloquently and glowingly about Hank Aaron as she and I would watch ball games on TBS in South Dakota. She was a die-hard Cubs fan, but she spoke about the strength and fortitude it took for Hank to do what he did in the game.
That got me interested, and at a young age, I checked out every book I could on Hank Aaron from our school library, and I then found there was another Brave that was a hero to many at the time, Dale Murphy. That sparked a fandom that still has me writing about the Braves 30 years later.
My great-grandma suffered from Alzheimer’s at the end of her life, but she still knew her baseball, and her state forced me to learn the history of the game, not just the Braves. We would talk about the 1960s Cubs and some of her favorites, like Ernie Banks and Ron Santo (she really loved Ron!).
Ron Santo’s Statue in front of Wrigley
My great-grandma passed before I hit my high school years, and she lived in Arizona most of her final years, so the one who really pushed my baseball love was my grandfather. He always had a ball game on in the pickup while we chased cows or when I rode along with him in the tractor. When I went to visit his house, if there was a game on TV, his TV was tuned to it. He loved the game, and he enjoyed giving me good-hearted ribbing about 1991 when his Twins beat the Braves and celebrated with me in 1995 when my favorite team won the championship.
My grandpa was a very good man, and by no means is baseball all he shared with me, but it is what set apart our relationship in the last days of his life. When he saw me keeping score in my early teens at one game (something a coach of mine taught me to do), he taught me a couple of tricks that I still use to this day. When I visited Turner Field in 2005 for the first time, he wanted to hear all about it the next time we talked. When I made my first visit to Wrigley in 2011, we sat for a half hour together reviewing the pictures from the trip and talking about the stadium.
In his last week, I caught him on one of his good days where he could still speak and was thinking fairly clear. I mentioned to him that the Twins were in first place, and he replied with a sly, knowing grin, “And how are the Braves doing?!” We talked until he couldn’t talk anymore, but he wanted to listen, so I talked about my wife, my work, our upcoming house purchase, and finally, our upcoming honeymoon trip. He had a great smile on his face as I described the different games I’d see and the chance to see all the greats at the Hall of Fame.
Saturday afternoon, I was keeping score of the game I was at in Pittsburgh between the Pirates and Phillies when a gentleman in front of me commented about how he always wished he’d have learned how to keep score. I’ll certainly be keeping score Monday evening as I watch the Braves take on the Red Sox in Fenway, as I have for every Braves game I’ve ever attended, including a 15-inning game in 2002 at the Metrodome that required a second score sheet!
Take the time to identify those budding young fans in your life and mentor them – not just into playing the game and watching it, but really, truly learning the game from the inside out, the history of the game, and the love of the intricacies that make baseball an incredible sport to watch. I cannot express in words how thankful I am that I had people like my grandfather who helped to cultivate the depth of love of the game that I have now.
I’ll finish with the last picture I have of him with me, a picture from my wedding. I love you Grandpa, and I’ll miss you always!