I Believe: Listening To Your Children Matters

St. Louis Cardinal Baseball is much like religion in my husband’s family. Before he was allowed to enter Busch Stadium when he was three years old, he was told he needed to recite the inscription on Stan Musial’s statue.

He did it.

My small people have done it too.

You are looking at the mantle…or shrine… in our family room.

This time last year, the Cardinals were making a run for the World Series. And then they were IN the World Series. My husband bought tickets to Game 6 (if you are a baseball fan, the now infamous GAME SIX – arguably the most-amazing-playoff-game-in-history) from Craigslist. He took our sweet girl downtown, perched on his shoulders, covered in Cardinal’s gear, only to be turned away at the gate. It turns out he was one of hundreds who had purchased counterfeit tickets.

To say he was crushed was an understatement. My two people sat side-by-side on the curb downtown, both of them holding in the tears, defeated, unable to join the crowds on the inside. My husband, unable to take his little girl to see and share the game he loves.

20121007-225917.jpgFast forward to this past weekend. The Cardinals are back in the race again. Game 1 of the NLDS was Sunday – the Cardinals facing off against the Nationals. We had tickets. And they weren’t counterfeit. But the small dude had a soccer game at the same time, and my husband is the coach. He is torn between his commitment to the small dude’s team and his desire to recreate last year’s moment with Delaney.

I almost convince him to have the assistant coach take the reigns with Cooper’s team so he can head downtown with his girl. I’m so afraid he will never have that opportunity with her again – he of course scoffs at me… these are the Cardinals, Danielle – of course they will be in the playoffs again!

But the small girl helps him to make the decision: she asks him if she can go with ME.

Me… the one who can’t catch a baseball. Me… who owns the Cardinal jersey, but can’t recite every Red Bird Playoff and World Series year like a real fan. Me… who didn’t make the counterfeit trek downtown last year.

I hardly feel worthy.

But, like the amazing Daddy he is…. he is listening to his little girl. She is telling him – not that she doesn’t want to spend time with him, but that she needs some extra one-on-one time with me. He coaches both of her teams. He’s been in the basement helping her to perfect her pitch. I was out of town last weekend.

And he heard her loud and clear. He handed me the tickets, smiled and said, ‘bring home a winner’.

We didn’t and we did. The Cards lost Game 1 against the Nationals, but I won. I have a husband who sacrificed his love of the game for his love of his little girl. And I spent a full afternoon talking and laughing with my girl.

Oh….and for Game 2 – Dad took the small dude, and THEY brought home a real winner.

My Greatest Sports Moment – A Daddy Diary

My 7-year old daughter (a smooth defensive infielder) approached the gates of Busch Stadium on October 27th and said to me, “Daddy, this feels different than the last Cardinal game we went to…There are a lot more people.  I mean, a lot more people. And, they just seem to be acting differently.  Why is that?”  I responded with pride, “Delaney, welcome to the World Series, the greatest sporting event there is, and our Cardinals are playing in it.”

We handed our Game 6 tickets to the Ticket Taker, and that’s where this story takes an evil turn.  Our tickets did not scan.  We were escorted to a member of the Stadium’s Management Team (not Tony Larussa), then asked to pay a visit to the Ticket Office.  We were informed that our tickets were counterfeit, and we were out of luck.  Within minutes, my daughter and I went from sitting in the bleachers inside Busch to sitting on a curb outside Busch.

We sat there for a few minutes without saying a word when finally my little girl gazed up at me with her sweet, innocent face which was buried underneath her RED winter stocking cap snuggled under 4 layers of RED shirts and sweatshirts, and says “Daddy, I don’t understand what just happened.  Why won’t they let us inside to watch the game?”  I admit it.  My eyes began to water and not because of the 25mph blustery wind hitting us with a 40 degree wind chill.  This was among the saddest moments of my life.

I explained to her that earlier in the day Daddy had purchased 2 tickets from a man who said he could not attend that night’s game due to a family conflict thanks to the previous night’s rainout.  Game 6 was supposed to be played the night before, but it was postponed due to rain.  He had a good story.  I bought it, and I bought what I thought to be 2 bleacher tickets to Game 6 of the World Series.  He got me.  In looking back, I can see the red flags now.  But, I admit that I was seeing RED that entire day, and wasn’t even thinking this was a possibility.  Yes, I’m naïve.  And, yes, I’ll never get on Craig’s List again.  I  know, I know, I’m an idiot for even thinking this was an option, but for a non season ticket holder that was struggling to swallow the Stub Hub prices, and lost out on the team’s auction for tickets, Craig’s List seemed to be my only option.  I know, I flubbed it. Error Daddy.

So, there we sat on the sidewalk for over an hour.  Delaney then turned to me and said “Daddy, let’s go get some dinner.”  So, we went over to Friday’s Restaurant which had cleared out as those with “real” tickets walked over to the game.  We watched the first couple of innings while eating a burger, fries, and a strawberry RED slushee (Delaney’s choice).  She said “Daddy, let’s walk back over to the Stadium.”  “Really?, I questioned”  “Yes, Daddy, I want to hear what it sounds like when that many people all get excited at the same time.  I want to hear what a World Series sounds like.”  Oh, yah, sure, I had dry eyes, and I can also hit a 99mph Fastball.  Not so much.

If the “seller” had walked past me at that point in time, I would have gone all Mike Tyson on him (not the Mike Tyson that played for the Cardinals in the 70s either).  I’m not tough.  I can also admit that.  But, you Dads know what I’m talking about.  This thief stole an experience from my little girl, and well, you don’t have to have biceps the size of Albert Pujols to knock someone out of the park.

My little “Red” bird and I walked around the Stadium for a couple of innings, just taking in the World Series atmosphere.  I tried to haggle with a couple of scalpers knowing the entire time that I just couldn’t bring myself to risk another counterfeit experience and spend more money on this game.  Besides, what if “we” lost?  Ugh.  I couldn’t go there either.  So, after the 4th Inning, I looked at a tired little girl and said “Honey, how bout we go home and watch the rest of the game with Mom and your brother?  I’m so sorry that we’re not inside watching this game.  I’m truly very sorry.”  She looked at me and said “Daddy, this was the best game that I’ve ever been to.  It’s the World Series, and I’m with you.”  Yep, call your Water Utility Company because I had enough H2O streaming down my cheeks to take care of your entire town.

So, she bounced into my arms, threw her arms around my neck squeezing me tighter than a runner from 3rd sprinting home on a sac bunt attempt (baseball reference), then I flung her onto my shoulders and I skipped all the way back to my car with my little girl singing “Take me out to the Ballgame” and of course, “Never say Never” by Justin Beiber.

We buckled into our seats in the Top of the 5th.  She was asleep 1 out later.  When we arrived at our home, it was the 6th.  I picked her up, put her on the couch, and rubbed her head while she slept on my lap all the way until the Bottom of the 9th when 2 men were on, and 2 were out with 2 strikes on Cardinal batter David Freese.  You all know what happened in the game from that point on, but I will say this, she never even made a peep.  She was safe and sound at home, and that was good enough for her.  Thanks to the Home Town Kid, David Freese, the Cardinals, miraculously, won that game after being 1 strike away from elimination not once, but twice, and the 3rd baseman was the hero both times.

That game will go down as the greatest Baseball game in St Louis Cardinal History, and I’ll never forget it as my Greatest Sports Moment.  I owe it all to an infielder whose first name starts with the letter “D” …. Delaney Smith, my little girl.

Sincerely,

Delaney’s Daddy

November 27th, 2011