Thursday's Treasure: Baseball

 I haven't done a Thursday's Treasure post in a while, so in a moment I will share a story and a treasure about baseball. The World Series is upon us and my team didn't make it. The post might have been a wee bit more fun if they had.

My team is the Atlanta Braves. The Atlanta Braves came to Atlanta in 1966. That would have been a year after my dad, the baseball fan passed away. He gave me his gene for loving baseball. Now, his team was the New York Yankees. I hold a special spot for that team, but I would definitely choose the Atlanta Braves in a showdown. I think he would have too. The Braves were known as 'America's Team" in my teen years and beyond. We were able to watch them for all games in those days due to the cable channel, WTBS. The way my family figured...if the Braves were playing then there was something to be watched on TV. 

I passed on my love for the Braves to my son. Paul Allen grew up in the Braves good years of the 1990s. He lived, ate, and breathed Atlanta Braves baseball AND still does.

Before I get to my story, let me just say baseball is just part of our family's story. Paul Allen played starting with Tee-ball and Jeff coached. I was the team mom. Now, not all of that is good memories. Parents can be annoying and sort of suck the fun right out of things, but I tried to keep the focus beyond the park on the good times that it brought. 

Paul Allen was so excited when he started tee ball and found out his team name was the Braves. He was pretty sure he was a superstar.

Of course, I still have this shirt.

We followed Auburn baseball of course, and one of Paul Allen's favorite games ever was getting Tim Hudon's autograph. He was an Auburn pitcher who later went onto to pitch for none other than the Atlanta Braves.

Paul Allen collected Braves' baseball cards and has a few treasures of his own.

I always drummed up interest in my classroom with books that I read or had out for the students during the World Series. 

Last week our family was all excited because the Braves made it to the National League playoffs. All the way to game 7 we were hopeful, but it didn't happen. We will wait again for next year. 

I will pulling for the Tampa Bay Rays, the American League team. We have been to a Rays game as well. Many years ago, we went to a Tampa Bay game against the Detroit Tigers. I was pretty excited about seeing the Tigers because after all, Magnum PI liked the Detroit Tigers.

If I haven't lost you yet, I will share my treasure.

My dad loved the Yankees and of course when he was growing up it was full of iconic names. One name was Mickey Mantle. Right after I was married when we read newspapers, I found it odd but Mickey Mantle was coming to Fort Walton Beach.

Of all things, he was coming for a promotional for Lee Jeans at our local Gayfer's (a fantastic store that deserves its own post).

Now, I don't know how in the world Lee Jeans got him to do that or if that meant he had fallen in such status that showing up in FWB for Lee Jeans was a good thing, but EITHER way...

I meant to see him. Being summer, I was free for the day. I got there early and found that the line was forming but I was surely in a spot that assured me a chance to meet him.

I was poorly prepared for my meeting. I had a piece of paper. Others in line had baseballs and it was quite an event. Popcorn and hot-dogs were for sale. I didn't dare leave that line though. I managed to buy a baseball from the lady in front of me for a $1.00.

I eagerly made it to meet him and shared that my dad had been a big fan and that I had bought a ball in the line as I was not prepared. He was very kind and said I spent way too much money on it. 

Anyway -- it was a moment for just me. I am not sure my son will like it since it is a Yankee's player, but I think since he is named after my dad and loves baseball he will probably hold onto the treasure that I hold dear. 

I actually hold the story more dear than the actual baseball. The excitement of meeting Mr. Mantle and knowing my dad would have liked it meant more than the actual signature. 

Isn't that why we hold onto items...the memory associated with it?

My autographed ball is kept with a few other treasures that have their own story of my dad. I am showing you where it is located in my china cabinet. It has a fixed glass in front of it so the picture is awful, but I felt I would show its location first.

Here is the actual ball which is already fading.  Autographs fade but stories live in our hearts.

Let's play ball,

Sandy