A New Season
In honor of spring training, here's the story of two of my great loves: my dad…and baseball.
My dad and I were avid Cardinal fans. It started with the straight-A seats I earned as a 7th grader. Dad was my best date, and he treated me to many games, too. I fell in love. The Cards consistently finished the season deep in the division, but I didn't care.
Dad taught me how to keep score and laughed until he cried reminiscing about Dizzy Dean and Stan the Man. All through my life we attended games and traveled to classic ballparks. Everything baseball reminds me of him.
The 1995 season was tough. Baseball was torn apart from the players' strike and cancelled World Series the year before. Then dad's health declined and he died at the end of August. Angry at the bickering of millionaire players and owners and devastated from losing my dad, I pushed baseball aside and out of my life.
Over two years later, dear friends invited my husband and me to a game. While other fans arrived in happy anticipation, I approached Busch Stadium with a heavy heart. Grief swelled in me, and with the joyful cry "Play Ball", tears streamed down my face.
Soon after, I read an interview with Marlo Thomas. After grieving her beloved father Danny's death, she found strength to carry on his compassionate legacy through St. Jude's Children's Hospital. No one ever really gets over the loss of a loved one, she said, but we can "fold it in" and move on. That painful trip to the ballpark was one of many moments that helped me fold my dad's passing into my life. After the tears dried, my life went on. So did baseball.
In 1998, Mark McGwire revived my interest with his home-run quest. Now a much stronger team than my straight-A days, the Cardinals made several trips to the playoffs. I started watching games again. In 2004, my dad's dream World Series match-up, the Cards vs. the Red Sox, appeared. I watched every game, only to be heartbroken…again!
Then, last fall, it was the Cardinals' turn. With a healthy, strong team and a whole lotta heart, the boys in red pulled off the unexpected. One of many inspiring performances was Jeff Suppan's pitching in the game that clinched the pennant. Named playoff MVP, Suppan shared in an interview his secret to pitching in such an intense situation—focus on the next pitch, and be in the moment.
Be in the moment. Great advice for baseball, and for life.
The Cardinals' World Series victory healed a lot of broken hearts, including mine. In celebrating the win, my memories of dad and our shared love of the game made it much sweeter. I'm wiser too; my eyes are now open to the business side of major league baseball. I know Jeff Suppan and some others from the series won't be in a Cardinal uniform this year. But, I choose to be grateful for the joy the 2006 Cardinals brought us, and for the advice Jeff Suppan gave. Perhaps I've folded both losses into my life.
And I think that's what my dad wants for me—not to cling to sadness, but to hold the memories in my heart, and be in the moment every day of my life.
Former Cardinal, now sportscaster Mike Shannon is known for his unique euphemisms. One created on opening day years ago is "spring is eternal." He may have meant "hope springs eternal," and I'll take it either way. With the coming of baseball, and the promise of a new season, hope indeed springs eternal this spring. I intend to enjoy every moment.
My dad and I were avid Cardinal fans. It started with the straight-A seats I earned as a 7th grader. Dad was my best date, and he treated me to many games, too. I fell in love. The Cards consistently finished the season deep in the division, but I didn't care.
Dad taught me how to keep score and laughed until he cried reminiscing about Dizzy Dean and Stan the Man. All through my life we attended games and traveled to classic ballparks. Everything baseball reminds me of him.
The 1995 season was tough. Baseball was torn apart from the players' strike and cancelled World Series the year before. Then dad's health declined and he died at the end of August. Angry at the bickering of millionaire players and owners and devastated from losing my dad, I pushed baseball aside and out of my life.
Over two years later, dear friends invited my husband and me to a game. While other fans arrived in happy anticipation, I approached Busch Stadium with a heavy heart. Grief swelled in me, and with the joyful cry "Play Ball", tears streamed down my face.
Soon after, I read an interview with Marlo Thomas. After grieving her beloved father Danny's death, she found strength to carry on his compassionate legacy through St. Jude's Children's Hospital. No one ever really gets over the loss of a loved one, she said, but we can "fold it in" and move on. That painful trip to the ballpark was one of many moments that helped me fold my dad's passing into my life. After the tears dried, my life went on. So did baseball.
In 1998, Mark McGwire revived my interest with his home-run quest. Now a much stronger team than my straight-A days, the Cardinals made several trips to the playoffs. I started watching games again. In 2004, my dad's dream World Series match-up, the Cards vs. the Red Sox, appeared. I watched every game, only to be heartbroken…again!
Then, last fall, it was the Cardinals' turn. With a healthy, strong team and a whole lotta heart, the boys in red pulled off the unexpected. One of many inspiring performances was Jeff Suppan's pitching in the game that clinched the pennant. Named playoff MVP, Suppan shared in an interview his secret to pitching in such an intense situation—focus on the next pitch, and be in the moment.
Be in the moment. Great advice for baseball, and for life.
The Cardinals' World Series victory healed a lot of broken hearts, including mine. In celebrating the win, my memories of dad and our shared love of the game made it much sweeter. I'm wiser too; my eyes are now open to the business side of major league baseball. I know Jeff Suppan and some others from the series won't be in a Cardinal uniform this year. But, I choose to be grateful for the joy the 2006 Cardinals brought us, and for the advice Jeff Suppan gave. Perhaps I've folded both losses into my life.
And I think that's what my dad wants for me—not to cling to sadness, but to hold the memories in my heart, and be in the moment every day of my life.
Former Cardinal, now sportscaster Mike Shannon is known for his unique euphemisms. One created on opening day years ago is "spring is eternal." He may have meant "hope springs eternal," and I'll take it either way. With the coming of baseball, and the promise of a new season, hope indeed springs eternal this spring. I intend to enjoy every moment.
Timing is everything with any successful swing of the bat. Maria has hit a home run with this essay. She shares her thoughts and feelings with style and grace. Baseball has a strong emotional connection for me as well. I was one of those men who stayed in the theater long after Field of Dreams had ended. I could pretend that I was watching the credits but like all the other men who sat there, I couldn't have seen them through the tears that welled up when John asks Ray, "Want to catch?" I lost my Dad five years before and that line brought back those memories of playing catch with him in the backyard. Those feelings came back to me reading this essay. Thanks.
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