My dad is in the middle row, second from the left.
Sometimes baseball, like history, appears as just a series of images in my brain. One image I will never forget is the image of Buster Posey jumping into the air after catching the third strike Wilson threw to clinch the NL West for the San Francisco Giants. What a moment!
My brain will also store other baseball memories. They are memories that are mine mostly, not big moments like that third strike. Memories more like...
The time my dad took me to Candlestick Park for the first time. I was so excited that I asked a million questions. The one that my dad always quoted to exemplify just how annoying I was that day was "Why do they water the dirt between innings and not the grass?" When we walked in the house that day after what was the most exciting day of my life, my dad looked at my mom and said, "I am never taking Janet to another game. I had to spend the entire afternoon answering questions." I was crushed. I cried and promised to never ask another question if he would please rescind his decision. Thankfully, he did. He promised that day that he would teach me the game but not ALL AT ONCE. He kept his promise.
Another baseball memory would take place at the Stick also. Of course my brothers and I loved the Giants as kids. The team had so many great players: Mays and McCovey,Speier and Bonds. My favorite, much to the chagrin of my father was Tito Fuentes. While my dad liked Tito, Tito also drove him crazy because he made my dad nervous when Tito talked to the players from the opposing teams as they got to second base. My dad was always certain Tito's talking would one day get in the way of an important play. I LOVED Tito though. I loved that he seemed to be everybody's friend and I was mesmerized by the way he flipped his bat when he came to the plate each time. I practiced flipping my bat just the same way and I am certain there were many Bay Area kids doing the same thing. When the Giants were mid-rally and Tito came to the plate, the entire Stick would start chanting, "Tito, Tito, Tito" I would squeal with joy. One of my fondest baseball memories would be when my dad took us on bat day. Anybody who has ever gone to bat day knows how it goes. There is a huge basket of kid-sized bats at each turnstile and they hand whichever one they pick off the top. Each bat is "signed" by a player and you get the one they hand you. Tim was handed Bobby Bonds, a good score. My little brother, Tom, got a Chris Speier bat...another good score. I was handed, as if the fates had huddled and decided it was only fair, a TITO FUENTES bat. To this day, I have that bat. I had to fight by brothers away from it many times because they immediately split their bats and came looking for mine. I want to be buried with that bat.
And then, I have memories that aren't really mine. I have memories my dad passed down to me. He told us about Haywood Sullivan who he lived with in the boarding house in San Francisco where he met my mom. Haywood was a catcher for the Seals back then and my dad said he was a nice and classy guy. Each story my dad told about Haywood always showed what a nice guy he was. My dad told us about playing ball for S.F. State where he too was a catcher. He told us about the baseball teams they formed during World War II and the Korean War. I have a picture of my dad that is a classic Army picture. I will post it here soon. He sits in front of an army tent- his army hat askew. The negative is flipped so he looks like a lefty as he writes the baseball lineup for the game they will play that day. He is concentrating so hard his tongus is slightly sticking out of his mouth as he bites it in concentration. The caption below the picture says, "Dear Mom" It certainly looks like he is writing a letter home and that he is putting his all into it. We all knew differently because he told us all about that lineup and which player went where and why. One of those players my dad always talked about was Bid Masters.
And Bid Masters, in a roundabout way, will bring us back to the present. My dad's best bud in the army was Bid Masters. Bid talked my dad into being tested and becoming a Radio Signal Interceptor. Bid is probably why my dad was alive to marry my mom. He steered my dad in a direction that, while difficult, (my dad spent a year in a tent with four other guys in the Aleutian Isles under what were often blizzard conditions, for example), it was much safer than what many other guys my dad knew ended up doing. And, while it was a very important role, he never had to kill another human being with his own hands, something he was always grateful for. The reason I bring up Bid Masters is this... First, he might have saved my dad's life, but also because, until recently, I thought Bid Masters was the best name any baseball player could ever have. But then, the Giants brought up this kid Buster Posey and Bid Masters became the second best baseball name I knew.
My dad died two Januarys ago. He would have loved Buster Posey. He would have loved this entire 2010 Giants team, but he would have especially loved Buster. Buster is a no nonsense kind of player. He is a catcher just as my dad was and the kid has a gorgeous swing. Buster will most likely get MVP Rookie of the Year. And, while seeing Buster (Mr.Serious all season long) smile and jump in the air was a fabulous moment, I couldn't help but wish my dad had been there to see it. Of all the people I have ever known, my dad would have cherished that exact moment as much as I did. We would have talked about it for years to come. I guess in one way my dad WAS there. All those lessons he slowly parceled out to me made that moment special. All the patience he showed when he explained why you pitched certain batters certain ways; why a strike is best when it is almost a ball; why the last out is the hardest one, etc. All those lessons he gave me were right there inside me sa I watched Buster make the call and Wilson pitch the final strike. And when Buster jumped in excitement, I was thrilled for him. I was thrilled for the Giants. And, I was thrilled for me...the me that my dad prepared for that great moment. I will always have a soft spot for catchers because of my dad, and I will always have a soft spot for players with great names like Bid Masters, Haywood Sullivan, and Buster Posey. Thanks Dad. You would be so proud of this Giants team.
