31 Days: Eighteen
Jul. 28th, 2013 09:37![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zubeneschamaliToday's task: "Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt."
I thought I was 8, but Wikipedia tells me I was 9, so my narration might be slightly unreliable.
I grew up near Chicago with a Dad who was a rabid Cubs fan and a Mom who was a moderate White Sox fan. So I'm one of those rare birds who actually cheers for both Chicago teams (though the Cubs have first place in my heart, if never IRL). But the Sox usually have lower attendance and therefore more discount tickets, and when I was growing up, my school had a deal where if you got perfect attendance or straight As, you could get discount tickets to a Sox game. I think I only managed the perfect attendance once, but I got straight As on a regular basis, and so we went to a Sox game most summers.
One year, my favorite aunt came down from Michigan to go to a game with us. My aunt was 16 when I was born, and I was her first niece/nephew, so we were pretty close when I was a kid. She's a lifelong Tigers fan, and so we all went to see the Tigers play the Sox. Comiskey Park is gone now (although a lot of people, including myself, still call the new stadium Comiskey), and all I remember of it is the green walls of the outfield. The Sox had gotten into the playoffs the previous year, and so there were probably more people than normal there for the game. My aunt and I had a friendly rivalry going about the game, but mostly I was thrilled to be there watching it with her.
About once or twice a year, somewhere in the Major Leagues, a pitcher throws a no-hitter. This means the other team never gets a hit (though they might still get on a base due to a walk or an error). Most pitchers never throw a no-hitter in their careers, and even the really, really good ones get no more than 3 or 4. Jack Morris of the Tigers threw a no-hitter against the White Sox that day.
This game really stands out to me because of all of the conflicting emotions behind it. I was so, so disappointed in my White Sox for not only losing, but not even getting a single hit. The one time I got to see them live all year, and they sucked! But my aunt was so excited about her Tigers (it turns out it was the first no-hitter for them in her lifetime). Nine-year-old me knew I had to be polite and not pout too much about my team losing in such spectacular fashion, and I tried my best. At least, that's how I remember it. ;)
My hopes were further crushed that year when the Cubs got thisclose to getting into the World Series (in which they would have played the Tigers!) but blew it in their usual spectacular fashion. But that's another story. :)
I thought I was 8, but Wikipedia tells me I was 9, so my narration might be slightly unreliable.
I grew up near Chicago with a Dad who was a rabid Cubs fan and a Mom who was a moderate White Sox fan. So I'm one of those rare birds who actually cheers for both Chicago teams (though the Cubs have first place in my heart, if never IRL). But the Sox usually have lower attendance and therefore more discount tickets, and when I was growing up, my school had a deal where if you got perfect attendance or straight As, you could get discount tickets to a Sox game. I think I only managed the perfect attendance once, but I got straight As on a regular basis, and so we went to a Sox game most summers.
One year, my favorite aunt came down from Michigan to go to a game with us. My aunt was 16 when I was born, and I was her first niece/nephew, so we were pretty close when I was a kid. She's a lifelong Tigers fan, and so we all went to see the Tigers play the Sox. Comiskey Park is gone now (although a lot of people, including myself, still call the new stadium Comiskey), and all I remember of it is the green walls of the outfield. The Sox had gotten into the playoffs the previous year, and so there were probably more people than normal there for the game. My aunt and I had a friendly rivalry going about the game, but mostly I was thrilled to be there watching it with her.
About once or twice a year, somewhere in the Major Leagues, a pitcher throws a no-hitter. This means the other team never gets a hit (though they might still get on a base due to a walk or an error). Most pitchers never throw a no-hitter in their careers, and even the really, really good ones get no more than 3 or 4. Jack Morris of the Tigers threw a no-hitter against the White Sox that day.
This game really stands out to me because of all of the conflicting emotions behind it. I was so, so disappointed in my White Sox for not only losing, but not even getting a single hit. The one time I got to see them live all year, and they sucked! But my aunt was so excited about her Tigers (it turns out it was the first no-hitter for them in her lifetime). Nine-year-old me knew I had to be polite and not pout too much about my team losing in such spectacular fashion, and I tried my best. At least, that's how I remember it. ;)
My hopes were further crushed that year when the Cubs got thisclose to getting into the World Series (in which they would have played the Tigers!) but blew it in their usual spectacular fashion. But that's another story. :)
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no subject
Date: 2013-07-28 23:00 (UTC)Your descriptions of how you felt about the momentous occasion and the outcome of that day were great!
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Date: 2013-07-31 16:14 (UTC)Thank you! :)
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Date: 2013-07-29 05:14 (UTC)I enjoyed reading your remembrance of the game. Pretty true picture of baseball emotions. It's cool to see somebody doing something amazing but bittersweet if they are doing it in a game against your team.
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Date: 2013-07-31 16:16 (UTC)I certainly didn't appreciate it at the time, but now I know how amazing it was to witness that game.