For Love or Baseball

The only reason I know so much about baseball is because of my father.

I could tell you how many errors the short stop of the Detroit Tigers made in 1985. Ask me how many stolen bases Kenny Lofton had in 1994. Betcha I could tell you. I could give you the batting average of every single player on last year's roster.

Think I'm kidding?

My father had a love for baseball that spanned so far and wide that only his love for my mother could out do it. And he wanted to pass that love for baseball on to a son. But instead he passed it on to me. His daughter. Eleanor May Banks. You can just call me Ellie.

Since my father loved my mother so much, when she died he never remarried. Never dated another woman. Never tried to get that son to pass on the love of the game. I didn't mind. Trust me, baseball is religion just as much to me as it is to my father. I wouldn't be able to see life any other way.

Growing up, my father did the best he could raising a daughter. It wasn't easy, let me tell you. I came home one day asking my dad all sorts of girly things (Daddy, what's a bra? Daddy, when am I going to get my period? What the HECK is a period??) and I knew he didn't understand it one way or another. I blame Beth Ann from down the road. She loved to make fun of me since I "didn't have a mommy". Her broken nose was my response to that. So I stuck to playing stickball with the boys in the school yard (eventually they all wanted me on their team; I showed them all up, everytime), and after school my father and I went and watched the minor league team that took up residence twenty minutes outside of our little Florida town.

The Bell Bears (I know, not very original. Who comes up with this stuff anyway?). AAA minor league team for the Florida Marlins. Most of the time they were a bunch of misfits, half of them drafted from some college you've never really heard of out of state, half of them drafted out of a high school around here. But my father and I loved to watch them all play. Occasionally, maybe one player per season would get called up to go to the big leagues, but we'd see him again. More times than not, if a player left its because he was involved in a deal for a bigger player who was already in the majors.

My father didn't have a favorite team. He just had this great big love, with a capital l-o-v-e, for baseball. He had favorite players, of course. But not a favorite team. And I admired that about him. But there was one year, for my twelfth birthday, where he had saved the tax return money and took me to see my very first major league game in Atlanta. That's where I truly had fallen in love with baseball, and found my favorite team. The Braves won, 3-2. Greg Maddux pitched and it was beautiful. Nothing like the guys back at home pitching. Nothing like watching on tv. And don't get me started on Chipper Jones. His defense was on point that day. I think I lost my voice because I was rooting for him so much. He had already been on my list of top players from around the league, but seeing him play in person was soaring him to the top.

My father and I sat in our seats long after the game had ended. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. It was like the field had a hold on me, and I didn't want it to let go. I was vibrating with excitement and left over anticipation from experiencing the game (and my father, god bless him, he is so wonderful, got seats right along the first baseline, behind the dugout).

Next thing I knew, Chipper Jones was walking out of the dugout and onto the field. He was still in his uniform, only this time with his shirt untucked. He had a bat in one hand and a bucket of balls in the other. He glanced around the empty stadium before settling his eyes on my father and I. I think that's about the only time I had ever willingly stopped breathing. My new found idol was less than thirty feet away from me. What do you do when your new found idol is less than thirty feet away from you? Well, I stood up like my pants were on fire and ran up to the fence. I let my mouth open and close like I was a goldfish. Basically, you act like a damn fool.

I could feel my father come up beside me and distantly heard him say hello to Chipper. Chipper flashed a smile and came over to us, setting the bat down so it leaned against the fence.

"I thought all the fans had long cleared out of here. Sometimes I like to take a few swings to myself. Clear my head." Chipper was saying to my father, and he glanced down at me flashing a smile that, at the time I didn't even realize it, melted my heart.

"Well, my daughter Ellie here has been screaming her full head off for you the whole game. I think you might be her new favorite player. And let me tell you something Mr. Jones, that is no easy title to come by." 

"Is it really? I'm honored. I don't believe I've ever met a girl who likes baseball quite as much as you do Miss Ellie."

I don't think I've ever smiled that big before in my life. My father had bought me a Braves hat before the game. It was stiff, and slightly too big for my little head. But I love it more than anything still to this day. I took it off my head and dug the sharpie I had in my back pocket (just in case) out. I tentatively held it out towards Chipper.

"Will you sign my hat Mr. Jones?" I looked up at him and smiled as best I could with my heart in my throat threatening to suffocate me. It's a wonder he even heard me.

"Well of course Miss Ellie. I'd be delighted. What brings you guys to the ball park today?" He asked as he took my hat and the sharpie into his hands.

"Today is Ellie's birthday!" My father exclaimed. It truly surprised me that year that my father was so excited about my birthday, seeing as in a few days it would be the saddest day of the year. But that's another story for another time.

Chipper smiled and started to scribble on the bill of my hat. A few seconds later, he handed both the sharpie and my hat back. On it read "Happy Birthday to the biggest baseball fan I've ever seen. <3 Chipper Jones".

I was so beyond happy I could have cried. And I did. Which was saying something, because I never cried.

"Mr. Jones. Could I ask you for one more thing? Can I get a picture of you and Ellie together?" My father pulled out the one use Kodak camera he had bought for the game. I thought he had used up all the pictures on it, but I guess not. 

"Sure." Chipper said with a smile.

I leaned up against the fence and faced my father, wiping away the tears to make myself more presentable. Chipper leaned one hand against the fence and the other hand on my shoulder, in a sort of half hug. My father put his eye up to the lense, and when he was satisfied with what he saw he said, "Okay, on the count of three! One, two, three!"

Flash. And there it was. The happiest moment of my life, forever memorialized in a picture. I still have that picture. It never leaves my bedside when I'm at home. Its gone with me everywhere I've went when I did leave home. After the picture, Chipper said it was okay if my father and I stayed while he hit some balls. We snuck out once he made it half way through the bucket. I was dead tired, and we had a long drive back to Bell early the next morning.

But let me tell you ladies and gentleman. That was the absolute best day of my life.

***

Just so you guys know, The Bell Bears is not the AAA minor league team for the NOW Miami Marlins. I have no idea who the AAA minor league team is. Some of this is fiction. Some of this is true based on my knowledge of baseball and this great thing called Google. Give it a look see. You might learn something.

I've also never met Chipper Jones. I just know he was a really good player in his hey day, and he played for the Braves. And he was pretty good looking way back when too. Just sayin'.

Bell, FL does exist. Its a VERY tiny town outside of Gainesville. No I have never been there. I live outside of Tampa. But I wanted to stick to Florida, since, duh I live here. I personally am a Boston Red Sox fan (I swear if someone says someone, I'll go ape) but I truly have a love for baseball. This sparked up in my head over the weekend, and I just had to get it out. Drop me a line, and let me know what you think! :)