By BudGirl
Editor’s note – This article originally appeared on AstrosConnection.com on August 27, 2001.
I’ve wanted to write a Bleacher Rap for quite a while. I didn’t know where to start. I knew I wanted to share how baseball has helped my Dad and me go through the toughest time of his life. So, I’ll start by telling you about my Dad, then the influence baseball has had.
My Daddy, My Hero
He is the type of person that helps those that he doesn’t know, those he does know, and those who are not always good people. I don’t remember ever hearing him say a bad word about anyone. Everything he has, he has worked for. He has tried to instill these virtues in me, and I like to believe for the most part that he has succeeded.
In the not so distant past, my Dad suffered a major stroke. Sometimes when I think about how close to dying he was, it shakes me to my soul. The amazing thing is that he is alive. I remember being in the SICU room just so happy to see his chest rising and falling. Since then, he has progressed to where he is almost ready to go home. Unfortunately, it seems like just when things might be getting better, but he has a setback. The doctors warned us about this, but it always seems like a slap in the face when it happens.
Daddy and Baseball
One, of the things, that drives my Mom nuts is how, out of four children, only one is able to watch sports with my Daddy. That’s me. I remember watching football games on sundays on the couch covered in a quilt, asking which color the team to root for, or being at my Grandparents’ house and having my Daddy, Uncles, and Grandpa watching baseball. In fact, I remember getting in trouble, for picking the wrong team to win. (That team was not the Astros, though they were playing.)
My Grandparents, farming people from South Texas, had a “baseball” field in the front yard. It seems like every Sunday there was a game being played. After my Grandpa died, the first request made by my Grandma, was that the family would come over for Easter and play a baseball game. There were enough for two teams with substitutions. There was an ice-chest in right field, and too much competitiveness. I even got a swinging bunt hit.
But after all the Barbies and baby dolls, roller skates and boys, I have come to love sports. I don’t really play them, but I love to watch them.
I can sit in a chair and watch a game with my Dad. We talk about the players, plays, teams, fields, and history of the game. He talks about playing baseball in high school and how he and his brothers played on a community team where they grew up.
In high school I went to watch my cousins play baseball. Those games were a blast. It didn’t matter if they won or lost, we still cheered.
In 1998, I got two tickets to the Fox Southwest Suite at the Astrodome. Who else would I have taken but my Daddy? That was a blast. I think they played the Pirates. Billy Spiers hit an in-the-park-home run. My Mom, sister and her family, had to sit in regular seats.
In 1999, my Dad and I went to a game in the Astrodome, the last game either of us saw there, and saw Jose Lima pitch against the Cubs. I remember not being impressed with Eusebio, and then he went and hit a home run. Talk about having to eat your words. It was great.
We’ve gone to other games, especially the San Antonio Missions. Those he usually goes to with the guys. One of these days, he will go to a game with me at Round Rock. Then he’ll see some of the pitchers I talk about before they get called up.
This year, I went to one of the games at the Ballpark in Arlington. I found out from an aunt that my Dad kept telling them, “Leslie’s at that game.” It is a nice feeling to know that he was looking for me.
I go visit him every chance I have. And usually the first thing we talk about is how he is feeling and then baseball. There is always something to talk about when you want to talk about baseball. Luckily, he can watch a lot of games on television and I don’t mind watching them with him. His favorite team is the Astros, but he is not the die-hard that many fans are. There are things we agree on and some we don’t. Such as whether or not a play was safe, how good a pitcher is or was. We disagreed on Lima, and as usual he was right. He likes Biggio; I might even say he thinks Biggio is his favorite Astro. He loves the game.
I have plans to take him to a game at Enron next year. He seems more than ready to go. I can hardly wait.
So, no matter what the future holds for my Daddy and me, I know that baseball will always be a part of my life because it is something that I have been able to share with my Daddy in good times and in bad.
It is a unique bond between a Daddy and his daughter to have, and one that I am thankful for having.
