Let's just start by stating that life at my house is basically chaos. The three teenagers are in constant motion. I am so blessed that my wife can keep up with their schedules.
About two weeks ago I walked into the house one evening to the most shocking sight I can ever recall. Sitting together in the living room were my wife and three kids watching baseball. BASEBALL? BASEBALL! Certainly I must have been dreaming.
My wife began complaining about strike calls and close plays at first. What? This didn't really happen. Strategy about pitching changes, stolen bases and intentional walks were discussed. I have been speechless since mid-October when they caught baseball fever. Questions about the designated hitter and who has home field advantage replaced our typical conversations about unimportant stuff like school work, boyfriends/girlfriends and pizza. Who were these people?
The family went shopping and purchased team merchandise to show their support for the team. This really couldn't be happening. Other area teams have never penetrated the steel curtain to garner even a minute of their time. We were truly pioneering with this newfound family baseball passion.
I've been a Texas Ranger fan since my youth. Decades of disappointment never had me love them any less. This was baseball and they were my home team. They didn't owe me anything. Nevertheless, the Rangers gave me a gift more special than a World Series. They gave me three weeks with my family. Three weeks like none other. The five of us bonding together watching our national pastime.
When they lost the Series to the Giants in Game 5, I was obviously disappointed. Disappointed that this special time was now over. I doubt we'll ever be able to recreate the magic.