Baseball. Beisbol. America’s greatest pastime.
My first vivid memory of watching baseball was at my grandparent’s house in Sabinas, Coahuila, Mexico. My grandpa had his favorite teams: Atlanta Braves, Chicago Cubs, Houston Astros, and Texas Rangers. He picked his teams based on what games they would play on the Mexican channels him and my grandma had access to. He didn’t care if he had no actual ties to a city or team. He just loved his baseball.
On his best days, my grandpa would be sitting on his favorite couch watching baseball, drinking a beer, and eating peanuts.
My brother and I would spend our summers with my grandparents so that “we could practice our Spanish” according to my parents. But, now looking back, it was really the experience that mattered more and actually made a difference in our lives. My grandpa had a HUGE effect on me and really shaped who I am today. My grandpa wasn’t much of a talker. But, from the conversations we did get to enjoy, I learned a few things about him.
My grandpa was obsessed with and loved American culture.
My grandpa loved baseball.
My grandpa shook Frank Sinatra’s hand.
When my grandpa got sick for the first time, I went home from college to see him and take care of him with the rest of my family. I was I. The hospital room with him and he told me, “Sabes que? You know what? I lived a great life. I had my good times and my bad times. And I am ready. I am ready to die. It’s my time and I accept that.” All in Spanish, of course.
I was alone in the room with him when this happened. He went on to ask me to tell my dad to “just let him go already”. I was 19 and still living under my parents’ roof. I remember telling my siblings and my mom. But, I couldn’t ever bring myself to tell my dad that his own father wanted to die.
I don’t really know when I became so close with my grandpa. I think it started after that time in the hospital. They were living in my hometown of Del Rio at the time. A few months later, after he was out of the hospital, my grandma begged and begged to move back to Sabinas and they did.
Slowly, I started to find more and more of my grandpa in me. One night while studying, I stumbled upon the Frank Sinatra Pandora station. I immediately fell in love with standards and big band and jazz. I became engrossed in the music and in the time period. I couldn’t believe my grandpa had played violin in an orchestra. I couldn’t believe that my grandpa SHOOK FRANK SINATRA’S HAND.
That same Christmas we spent in Sabinas. I found a Glen Miller Band record. Moonlight Serenade. I LOVE that song. I took it out and started playing it on my grandparent’s record player. My grandpa looked up at me with so much joy in his eyes and started to snap while tapping his feet to the music. My little sister and I started dancing to it in the little free space they had in their living room. I had never seen my grandpa so happy before then.
That Spring, my dad called me to ask me to come home and travel with his to Sabinas in the middle of the week. I was upset because, I mean, I had a life right? “I am 20. Practically an adult. I don’t have to do what pops says.” I kept thinking to myself. And I guess I had to study too. My dad said that my grandpa was getting more sick and was starting to forget people and things. I agreed and took time off school to go down to Mexico.
Baseball was back and that season my grandpa had taken an interest in the Atlanta Braves. I had never really paid attention to the game before then. I knew my grandpa and my dad liked to watch it, but I didn’t actually ever take the time to watch it myself. My grandpa started to tell me about baseball and how he discovered it. He told me about all his favorite players and how he wanted to visit Cuba for the longest time because he believed that that is where baseball was really born.
That week I became a baseball fan. More importantly, I became an Atlanta Braves fan. I had another connection with my grandpa. I had one more thing in common with him. Our visits during the season would consist of him telling me more stories and me watching him in amazement because I had never seen someone so interested in a game.
As the years passed by, my grandpa got older and sicker. He didn’t remember me half of the times I would visit him in his final years. But, he did remember the music and baseball. We could still talk and have never-ending conversations.
This game. Baseball. That my grandpa showed me to embrace and to love, was one of the new loves of my life.
My grandpa didn’t know it, but he changed my life. I honestly am a different person because of him. My music choices and my love for baseball dictated the direction in which my life decided to go in.
The day my grandpa passed away in September of 2012, I was at work at my first big girl job. My mom called my work phone to tell me the news. I was devastated. I had never seen my dad cry as much as he did that day.
I spent weeks crying. I would play “Moonlight Serenade” on repeat. I wasn’t so much sad that he passed on, but more that I didn’t have the opportunity to get to know him more.
As the months passed, I got better. Julian was a big part of that. Then, after the dust settled, I promised to always listen to standards or big band music if I ever got down on life. And I promised that, no matter what, I would always be an Atlanta Braves fan.
My grandpa wasn’t from Atlanta but he loved his team so I want to continue that tradition.
Abuelito, I miss you every day. There is so much more I wish we could have talked about. It’s opening day. I wish you were here so we could visit and go to a game together.
Life is amazing and you can learn so much along the way. People die but life goes on. You will always have their memories to hang on to.
Now, como decías siempre tu abuelito, play ball!!!!
