“You’re missing the world series, Mom!”
She and my dad devoted a lot of hours to watching baseball on television the last few years. Sometimes they would watch two games in one day. Back in the sixties, she was a big Cardinals fan, so I’m sure she would have been rooting for them to beat the Red Sox.
Back then, the Cardinals were the nearest team. There was no team in Kansas City. We would listen to the games on a portable radio as we weeded the vegetable garden. I remember the names still; Ken Boyer, Bob Gibson and Orlando Cepeda. There was Dick Groat, Ray Sadecki, Steve Carlton and Lou Brock. Stolen bases, amazing pitching and big hitters. What a great and memorable team.
Mom liked baseball at all levels. My sisters played on little league teams and Mom sat in the stands scoring the hits, plays and errors in the tiny boxes of the score sheet.
She became a Cubs fan in the last five years of her life. They could get all the Chicago games on cable. After Dad’s death, she still watched the games but missed discussing the players with him and complaining about the umpires.
My sister Karen started taking her to see the summer collegiate games in El Dorado. Despite the beastly heat, they cheered the young players on and made a family outing of it with Mom’s sister, CJ, and another daughter, Cindy participating and assorted grandchildren or great-grandchildren. A baseball fan to the end.