This is baseball. It’s not just a game played between a set of white chalk lines on a field. It’s not just a player throwing a ball, or another swinging a bat. It’s history. It’s community. It’s family. It’s generations.
In 1987 I watched my first baseball game with my father. As a transplant to the area, my father had never watched a lot of baseball. But our local team was in the playoffs and he got swept up in the excitement like everyone else. Community. It was the first time I had ever watched a baseball game. Dad explained the rules. 3 strikes, 3 outs, 9 innings, top and bottom. We cheered and we rooted and we watched in dismay when our team lost, ending their season, and ours.
From that moment on, we were rabid fans of the game. But it wasn’t just about the game. It was about our mutual passion for our team. Our love for the game. It was about the time we spent together. Family.
Our team would make the playoffs, and even go to the World Series a couple of times. But every year they would come up just short of winning it all. And Dad was suddenly stricken with cancer, much, much too young.
In the final year of his life, our team would enter the playoffs one last time. I watched each game breathlessly, having fooled myself into believing that if our team could somehow just keep winning, then maybe Dad could hold on just a little longer. Maybe miracles would happen, both on the field and in our lives. Our team lost in the first round, 3 games to 1 that year. About a month later, Dad was gone. Our team had not been to the post season since.
Before he died, I asked my dad about his loyalty to our team. I asked him when it was that he became a true follower of our franchise, and a fan of the game. “I never watched baseball growing up,” he responded simply. “I just started getting into it because you liked it so much.” That was Dad. That is baseball.
Our team finally won the World Series this year. I wonder if the players have any idea what this means to so many of us. As I watched the game and those final victorious outs, I stood in the same room where I watched my first baseball game with Dad so many years ago, the same room in which he passed away. This time the tears were of joy.
Someday I will have children of my own. I will teach them about the game. I will teach them that there are 3 strikes, 3 outs, 9 innings, top and bottom. I will teach them to be loyal to their team, even when they lose. And they will learn as I did, that baseball is more than just a game. That it’s about communities and families and generations.
Thank you Dad, for the gift of baseball. And thank you baseball, for the gift of my father. I love you both.
When I saw Dad watching the Giants on his deathbed, I stopped pretending I liked the A’s more than the Giants. I’m not sure when that actually happened, but it was when I admitted it to myself. I only picked the A’s because I thought maybe I shouldn’t copy you in every single way for once. Of course, all I ended up knowing about the A’s was what you taught me anyway, and generally, I still knew more about the Giants.
A couple years ago I watched Field of Dreams and I cried like a baby. You said why pretty well above.
Go Giants! I miss you, Daddy.
What a beautiful tribute to your fantastic father who rightfully is well missed, Matt. Bill is proud of you; I am certain of that. Love, Aunt Kaye
Your Dad was a good friend and a great man. He was special in many, many ways. I miss him, Tim
Matt, your touching words about your dad made me cry. I am sure he was watching the game with you, just from a little higher chair. I miss him too. Sue
Matt,
What a wonderful tribute to your father, it brought tears to my eyes. Congratulations on your team winning,
Sarah
Matt,
Thanks for sharing your memories of your father and learning the game of baseball from him. In 2002 when the Giants lost to the Angels, certainly I was disappointed, but being that my father had always been a fan of the Angels, I was happy for him. He was able to tease me for awhile and I enjoyed it. Now that the Giants are “The World Champs” I would like to give it all right back to him, but he is gone . . .and I miss him.
What is that special connection between fathers, sons & baseball?
CRB
Matt, Thank you for opening up about how special Baseball is to you. I always thought that it is “just a game”, I can now see that that is not true for soooo many fans of this sport. I will never say any sport is “just a game” ever again. Much respect to you and your family. God Bless you all and God Bless The Giants!!!
Shawnna
Thanks for sharing, Matt. We all miss him!