By Tim Lacy
The Baltimore Ravens provided local fans with a season to be talked about for a long time. Lamar Jackson sent thrills that could be felt through your TV. A purple jersey for sale couldn’t be found between here and Nova Scotia. Sadness could be seen in the faces of little boys when they opened the boxes under the tree and there was no jersey to be found. The season plays on, but you can see a slight pout on the faces of Raven’s fans (my spouse among them).
The knuckleheads and I teased Ms. L about being a front runner, but I think I better put away the needle and count my blessings that I share my life with a woman who loves sports. She loves basketball and football, and during the Olympics she doesn’t know any names, but as long as they wear the USA logo on their jerseys she adds to the volume among the cheerleaders in my family room.
To say that she hates baseball is an understatement. We have been in many baseball honors situations, and if you looked closely at her face you will see an expression on her face that will lead you to believe she has a corn on her foot and her shoes are killing her (I’m going to pay for that one).
The irony of this is the fact that my Pop and my wife enjoyed a mutual admiration society. I was outnumbered at all times, however, they didn’t share the same love for Baseball. I went to Cooperstown when Sam was enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame. While I was there I played in the HoF Golf Tournament. I came home with a Waterford Crystal Vase which she promptly filled with jelly beans and stuck in a corner.
Sam was such a fan that he would watch baseball on two sets at once while taking a nap. He would wake up, tell you the score and give you the highlights. Sam died in 2003, but when St. Peter met him at the Gates he shook his hand, told him to go pick up his uniform because he was pitching tomorrow.
Major League Baseball is now all tangled up in a cheating scandal. I am glad Sam missed this one. I am going to wait until this mess is straightened out and I will get back to you with my two cents worth.