Baseball Blues

Last Wednesday (April 2nd), sometime between 8 and 9PM, one day removed from a prankster’s favorite holiday, I was in my car driving home listening to the AM radio broadcast of the Los Angeles Dodgers. It was the bottom of the 9th, the score was tied and Shohei Ohtani was up to bat. Today was his bobblehead night, fans had started lining up hours before the game to make sure they got a mini bobbling Ohtani holding a baseball bat. The scene was set, the Dodgers had battled their way back from an 0-5 deficit against the Atlanta Braves. The score was now 5-5, and in the bottom of the ninth inning with one out, Shohei Ohtani, the big one, was standing in the batter’s box bat in hand with a chance to walk it off. Atlanta’s closer, Raisel Iglesias, threw his first pitch, thunder followed. With one swing of his bat, Shohei Ohtani sent the ball to the sky, clearing the outfield, winning the game. Listening to the call, I had tears in my eyes. I wasn’t heavily invested in this game, of course I was happy my local team with my favorite players won, but that didn’t explain this ocular phenomenon. No, I was thinking about how much I wished I could have watched that game with my dad. Even though he himself wasn’t a big sports guy, he loved to watch Dodger games, at least the ones we were able to get on TV, as a family. He was in the hospital during the Dodger’s World Series run last year. Whenever there was a game, I would drive over, turn it on, and sit with him. We would talk about our days, what he had for dinner, what I had for dinner, and I’d tell him about anything happening on the screen if he couldn’t see it clearly. I’ll never forget those memories. They are some of my favorite from the last year. That’s why I shed some tears. It was a good game.