Thursday, April 8, 2010
Since I no longer play, I have joined the ranks of millions of others and follow my team throughout the spring, summer, and hopefully, fall. My beloved club that keeps me up at night with fear and dread is the cursed Pirates from Pittsburgh. I proudly carry this burden with religious fervor and hope that at my funeral it will be said of me that I was a loving and caring husband, that I was a compassionate and concerned parent, and that I was a Pirates fan to the bitter end.
I became a Pittsburgh enthusiast through no fault of my own, but born into its legacy thanks to Pennsylvanians that emigrated to central Delaware after their wool mill burned down. They brought with them Pirate Fever and it stuck. My great grandfather Benton gave it to his children, Martha and William. They in turn passed it to their three offspring Susan, John, and Benton, and they....... you get the idea. No need making this sound like the Book of Exodus. Suffice it to say, I have Pirate DNA in my veins. I was brought up both Methodist and Pirate and their were times throughout life that you could not tell the one from the other.
So it begins anew. A fresh slate and the beginning (big inning?) of a new baseball season. I already have tickets for the May 17th game in Philadelphia between the Phils and the Pee-Rats (ONE DOLLAR HOT DOG NIGHT!). I simply wanted to forewarn all that this blog will be sprinkled heavily with baseball anecdotes during the next several months and that my blood will be changing from Blue and Gold to Black and Gold. Play ball.