Category: OLD SPORT SHORTS (Page 24 of 68)
An old guy’s perspective on all sports
I drove to Tampa with my son to watch the White Sox play the Rays yesterday afternoon. Along the way, I reunited with a fellow Sox fan, who last went to a game with me at then named Verizon Wireless Stadium fourteen years ago. We hadn’t seen each other since. The Cubs beat the Sox that May day in 2007 11-6 and proceeded to be blown out by the Rays 9-0 in yesterday’s encore. I’m suddenly not sure if we’ve ever seen them win together, but we’ll probably keep trying now that we only live an hour apart.
In 1962-1965 the White Sox were the home town Florida favorites, known as the Sarasota Sox, long before the Rays and Marlins became the Sunshine teams to support. White Sox Spring Training has moved to the West Coast and the Cactus League, so it’s mostly old timers like me that are White Sox fans in this area. My love of the White Sox began in 1959 with a catcher named Sherm Lollar. I was 8 years old when the Sox played the Dodgers in the televised World Series and #10 became my favorite jersey number. I wore it yesterday in honor of Sherm, even though it has belonged to a worthy Yoan Moncada for the last five years, as well as Pete Appleton in 1940 and Red Wilson 1952 before Sherm joined the team. Lollar has worn it the longest, eleven years, from 1953-1963. Since that time, it’s changed hands many times, including J.C. Martin (2), Tommy Davis, Chuck Brinkman (2), Jay Johnstone (2), Sam Ewine, Ron Santo, Jack Brohamer (2), Ron Blomberg, Joe Gates, Steve Lyons, Fred Manrique (2), Shawn Jeter, Mike LaValliere (3), Dave Steib, Darren Lewis (2), Chris Snopek, Mark Johnson (2), Royce Clayton (2), Shingo Takatsu (2), Bob Makowiak (2), Alexei Ramirez (8), and Austin Jackson. I proudly display in my personal collection, Sherm Lollar’s 1955 game worn jersey #10.
The number 10 should have probably been retired by the White Sox, along with Nellie Fox #2, Harold Baines #3, Luke Appling #4, Minnie Minoso #9, Luis Aparicio #11, Paul Konerko #14, Ted Lyons #16, Billy Pierce #19, Frank Thomas #35, Mark Buehrle #56, and Carlton Fisk #72. The White Sox once had a team Hall of Fame but put it in mothballs in favor of an expanded gift shop. He is a member of the Chicago White Sox All-Century Team. At this point, he’s probably too far down the Cooperstown list to ever be included, despite his stellar 18-year .992 fielding percentage. However, I continue to collect his memorabilia, the latest being a vintage 1959 Rawlings baseball bearing his likeness that is still in the box.
In an article written by Brett Kiser twelve years ago, he mentioned that the great Ted Williams claimed the Pale Hose never would have made it to the 1959 World Series without Lollar. Kiser also pointed to his three Gold Glove Awards and the fact that he was named to seven All-Star squads (playing in nine games). Despite the loss to the Dodgers in 1959, he earned two World Series rings as a player with the Yankees 1947 and as a bullpen coach for the Baltimore Orioles 1966. I have made my case for his Hall of Fame induction. (See Post #5)
I honor Sherm Lollar today on what would have been his 97th birthday. He died in 1977 at the age of 53. Although I never met the man, I somehow feel compelled to collect articles, press photos, cards, merchandise, and gear related to his career. He lives on in my office, along with his Hall of Fame teammates that certainly believed that he belonged beside them in the Hall, as the field general in their 1959 title quest. I was disappointed with the effort of yesterday’s White Sox in Tampa and noted that the 2005 World Series patch on my #10 jersey was now 16-years old. As a lifelong Sox fan, it’s been too long of a wait again for that elusive title.
Elements of our overhead lighting will be installed this afternoon, including kitchen counter canisters and the dining room chandelier that we brought with us from Portland. It actually turned out to be our 20th wedding anniversary gift, as part of the move to Florida. Yesterday, we made good use of our new location with a trip to the beach about 20 minutes away. Tally had to stay home this time with the temperatures still in the nineties. The heat is a constant drain on my energy, but the Gulf breezes are revitalizing. As I sit in the sun, it’s as if my cells are recharging.
Tonight is the stadium concert, Majesty of Rock, taking us back to our 70s musical roots. They will perform the songs of Styx and Journey while we sing along. Hopefully, it won’t storm like it has most evenings this week. It’s part of the countdown to my 70th birthday in just six days, culminating with a night in Tampa with Santana and Earth, Wind, Fire. Thankfully, the funeral for my ex-step-mother-in-law has been cancelled. One of the family members has tested positive for Covid, so I’m glad that my son doesn’t have to make the long drive back to Indiana. He’ll be able to join me now for the Fantasy Football draft that he got me involved in doing. At least, it’s a visit to Buffalo Wild Wings, a place I used to call home. I will once again enjoy their wings and a beer.
Tomorrow morning, my son and I will make the drive to Tampa for the White Sox vs. Rays game. I’m also reuniting with a friend from my WMEE radio days back in Ft. Wayne, Indiana. We haven’t been to a Sox game together since May of 2007, fourteen years ago. We also were joint season ticket holders for IU football for many years, but that ended over 20 years ago. He moved to Tampa several years ago when the opportunity presented itself to do his radio production work from home. It will be good to see him again, reminiscing about radio, softball, and sports, while spending the day with my son. The Countdown to 70 continues…..
The Cubs finally broke their 12-game losing streak last night with a victory over the Reds. Happ made it happen with a 2-run home as Hendricks earned his league leading 14th victory of the season. The White Sox won their 70th game by beating the A’s. I’m headed to Tampa on Sunday to watch them play the Rays. However, my son may not join me due to a death in the family. We got together last night at Donato’s for dinner to discuss his plans to drive back to Indiana.
It’s difficult after a divorce to decide what is right. I haven’t gotten together with my ex-wife’s family for nearly 23 years. Her father remarried a woman affectionately known as Margie that was always a joy to be around. She had a son of her own but quickly became a step-mother to five daughters and somehow managed to win them all over. She was also very gracious to her husband’s first wife, the girls’ mother, often spending vacation time and holidays with all of them together. Margie made us all feel comfortable. Even though I haven’t seen her in several years, I will continue to miss her, just as I miss my ex-wife’s mother who is still alive.
The fact that the funeral is so far away makes it easy to avoid. I will probably buy a tree in her honor and have it planted in remembrance. I feel bad that our good relationship ended because of a messy divorce. I haven’t been part of their family for over 23-years but still have many fond memories. The only thing I still don’t understand was why my son, their eldest grandson, was not part of their lives when they lived so close together here in Florida at least half of the year. I doubt that this was Margie’s doing.
When you divorce your wife you also divorce her family and friends. Sadly, I now live in Florida near the area where we all used to get together every year. None of them came this year, while I watched the Fourth of July fireworks on the beach. They will all now be at a funeral that I will not be attending. This is my choice but I still wish I could see them all. Margie had the last few years of her life taken away by poor health. Rest in Peace. When I last saw her she was still filled with energy. This is the way I prefer to remember her. I’m sorry, dear Margie, you had to leave us so soon and I never got to say good-bye.
Oh My! The Cubs lost their 10th straight and the Damn Yankees got even with the White Sox. Da Bears and Justin Fields started what hopefully will become a winning tradition. IU Hoops showed some promise in the Bahamas. All in all, a big day in sports. I even watched a little Cornhole on TV where a woman historically took the title. The Little League World Series is underway and today is the Brickyard – now 200 miles instead of 400 and on a road course rather than oval, while some things in sports never change like the Yankee uniforms.
This morning’s run was ocean front with a stiff wind coming off the Atlantic. I’m sitting on my balcony watching the waves roll in as I write this. It looks like Florida dodged Fred but hurricane Grace is now tracking in our direction. There’s one more Sox-Yankees clash this afternoon and more of IU Basketball, though not televised. I’ll have to get the wrap-up on Inside The Hall because even Twitter updates were hard to find on Friday evening.
The Yankees are having their way with the supposedly unstoppable Sox closers, Kimbrel and Hendriks. This is not a favorable sign of things to come for the SOX despite their huge Division lead. They will certainly make the Playoffs but have struggled against the other top tier teams. They were decisively swept by the Yanks in NY so winning the Field of Dreams game in dramatic fashion was encouraging. Last night, the Pinstripes won in the 10th shutting down Tim Anderson with the bases loaded and avoiding déjà vu. I’ll be anxious to see how The Pale Hose fare against the defending AL Champ Rays next weekend – in person. IU on the other hand, may have rudely awakened the Serbians for today’s rematch. Go Hoosiers, Sox, and Bears… Oh My!
I’ll guess I’ll be taking a retirement vacation this weekend – the only real change being a break from writing for a few days. It’s about a three-hour drive over to Singer Island and Riviera Beach where we’ll be spending the weekend under the care of Mother Marriott in a luxury condominium overlooking the Atlantic beaches. It will certainly be a change in routine with no dog or home chores to deal with – just friends to meet and sunshine to absorb. I’m looking forward to the change of scenery, unless Tropical Depression Fred changes course and crashes the party. It’s the second storm we’ve had to contend with since moving to Florida.
I sunk the chairs in the pool and removed potential flying objects from the lanai. Hopefully, it will not turn into a hurricane and lose intensity or better yet change course. All the preparations are a hassle but at least we installed high impact glass, so putting up shutters and plywood will not be necessary. Heavy rain is still likely, as seems to be the case most afternoons. Right now it’s the calm before the storm and should stay pleasant for our cross-Florida drive. We’ll have dinner tonight with my wife’s long lost Butler sorority sister and have another of her old friends stay in the second bedroom tomorrow night. My wife has done a great job of rekindling friendships since we’ve moved here. She’s also been good at finding new acquaintances through all her resort activities.
As I pointed out in yesterday’s post, my wife views our new living arrangements as a camp. Some days she’s even the counselor, arranging field trips for me. I was forced to leave the air conditioned comfort of our home to go to Selby Gardens and Spanish Point yesterday afternoon. She’s recently initiated “Tourist Thursdays” that include lunch and a visit to a historical site. The homestead and gardens we went to dates back almost 4,500 years and was permanently settled in the 1800s along Little Sarasota Bay. It was beastly hot and humid as we wandered along dirt paths and through restored cottages. It reminded me of a camp and I couldn’t wait to get back in our air-conditioned car. We also had to wear masks for the first time in awhile. I could see why the South was so opposed to wearing them in this suffocating heat.
My wife has another “tourist” plan for next Thursday, but I prefer to remain in the dark. At least she gets me out of the house where I spend too many hours in front of the TV. We were home in time for me to watch the Field of Dreams game where my White Sox knocked off the evil Yankees in the bottom of the 9th, despite a ferocious comeback. It made my day! Today, IU basketball starts up again with an untelevised exhibition game in The Bahamas. It also marks the day my wife’s mother would have turned 100, having passed three years ago. In two weeks I’ll turn 70 at a Santana concert, so this steamy month of August is filled with many memories and celebrations.
For those of you concerned about my last post (#1765), an admission to poor child sitting skills, I have a more positive outlook today. Both girls were very good and the oldest cooked us a pancake and egg breakfast. I was the sous chef and clean-up crew, plus we all had a good time together watching cartoons and playing with the pets. I’m now ready to go back for more, with a little more confidence. I was indeed a good grandpa. Our next outing is the Tom & Jerry outdoor movie on the big screen of the neighborhood Braves stadium, Cool Today Park, next week.
When my son came home from work yesterday to reclaim his children, he had two good stories for me – close encounters of the baseball kind! He had just met the father of new White Sox catcher, Seby Zavala, who make history this past week by hitting his first three major league home runs in the same game, including a grand slam. He played again yesterday, going 2-4 in an extra inning game against the Cubs. Despite the conversation, my son the die-hard Cubs fan was frustrated with me, his father, the White Sox fan, as I continued to text him about the game. He also recently met on the job one of the upcoming Braves, who was suited up for the Rookie Game we went to watch a few weeks ago. This poor son of mine is also going with me to see the Sox play the Rays in a few weeks, so I can continue to give him a hard time about this year’s Sox success and the downfall of the Cubs. Baseball is one of our big bonds.
My granddaughter’s name is Maddux, after Hall of Fame Cub pitcher Greg Maddox and the youngest is Nora Grace, for former Cub first baseman Mark Grace, so you can begin to see my son’s allegiance to his team. Somehow his son, the oldest of the three grandchildren, was named Gavyn. There was not a single baseball player on any team in history I could find with that spelling, although Gavyn his been to a Cubs game every year of his life up until the pandemic. We’re taking him to Pittsburg, along with the girls, in September to watch the Cubs vs. Pirates and fulfill this year’s annual attendance goal, as he enters high school in a few days. He doesn’t care that much about baseball but someday maybe he’ll share the same interest as my son and me. In the meantime, I’ll try to learn more about his technical interests in attempting to be a good grandpa.
After the run and swim this morning, I got back under the covers, taking advantage of my blog-cation. It was dark and quiet, with hours to go before our time with relatives. I thought of how the world of baseball had changed so quickly yesterday. (See Post #1759). Rizzo was now a Yankee as I watched him slug his first homer in pinstripes. Kimbrel got his first save in a White Sox uniform, although his fellow Cub transfer, Ryan Tepera, did not fare as well, giving up a game tying home run. Javy Baez was on his way to New York to join his new Met teammates while Kris Bryant was taking a Giant step to San Francisco. Manager David Ross patched together a new Cubs lineup that fell short of our the Nats. It was supposed to be a D.C. reunion with Kyle Schwarber but he was now in Boston, with the 2016 World Series Champs now scattered all over the country.
The weekend is once again upon us. Here we are at the beach, at the most northern point of Florida. Tally dipped her paw in the Atlantic Ocean for the first time, having already done the same thing on both sides of the Gulf and in the Pacific. She’s a well traveled schnauzer, living her life from coast-to-coast and even seeing the fringes of Canada. We dined on the beach, The Sandbar & Kitchen, and stayed at the Springhill Suites/Courtyard by Marriott, once again paying more for Tally than ourselves. We’ll now venture into Jacksonville and spend some time with the twins, the main purpose of this adventure. Tomorrow, my wife will reunite with long lost Rochester, Indiana neighbors.
I was thinking about some of the travel opportunities that we’ve missed over the last year-and-a-half due to the pandemic. We may now never get to the Prince of Wales Hotel, the Bali or Kauai beaches, Finland, Norway, or the Russian rivers. Egypt can be made good in 2023, but these other destinations may have to be reserved for another lifetime. At least the virus did not take our health or our lives, as has been unfortunately the case for too many others. We live to travel, but the clock is working against us! Tick, Tick, Tick!
