Blog

The Ol’ Sports Talker is feeling nostalgic this week.

I have a lot of great sports memories from my life. The AFCCG a couple of years ago when the Indianapolis Colts beat the hated New England Patriots. I cried like a bride on her wedding day. (Okay, maybe a groom. I don’t have a lot of experience in that field.) I’m not ashamed to admit that I sobbed when the COLTS won and went on to win the Super Bowl over Da Bears.

Or how my Dad and I would go out and clean the garage while we listened to the Indianapolis 500 back in the 60’s. (ABC would tape delay it and show it later that night.) On Monday we would always have a huge picnic with family and friends. My Dad would play the part of Grill Master and my Mom always made the best potato salad.

But my best sports memory was getting off of school when I was in Junior High School. My Grandmother lived about 4 blocks away from the Junior High School. So instead of taking the bus home, I would walk to her house and wait for my Dad to pick me up. You might ask why. Well, the time I would have to wait on my Dad to get off work, I would actually arrive home about the same time the bus would have dropped me off. And most importantly, I knew that my Grandmother would have 3 things waiting for me. An icy cold Coke, a fresh banana and the Cincinnati Reds on WLW TV! My Grandmother had never been to a Reds game, didn’t know any player that wasn’t on the Reds roster, but she could talk Reds baseball with me.

I think it was her way at bridging the generation gap. You know what? It worked! She would sit there and crochet and watch the game. I would come in and she would immediately tell me to go get a Coke and banana and catch me up with the action. I would come back and sit on the couch and she will fill me in. When my Dad did arrive, I almost hated to leave the game. She would tell him to come in and watch the game with us, but he was always in a hurry to get home. I would kiss her good-bye and then my Dad and I would get in the car and go home. I always tuned the radio to WLW AM to listen to the game.

When the Reds were on their West Coast swing and the games came on late at night, I would hide my radio under my pillow so I could listen to Joe Nuxhall call the game. Sometimes I would forget to turn it off and my parents would complain in the morning that they heard music.

I can remember in 1967 My parents took us on vacation to Atlanta, Georgia. We stayed just a few blocks from where the Braves played. That weekend we took a Gray Line tour of Atlanta. The bus driver asked if there were any baseball fans aboard. I immediately shot my hand into the air and said, “I am!” He said that he would take a little detour and show us something. He drove the bus through a residential neighborhood. He stopped the bus and pointed to a house. He said, “That’s where Hank Aaron lives!” I almost fell out of my seat. Other than the house was brick, it wasn’t that much different than my parents home. I would have expected an estate. The bus driver did say that we should see the house his ex-wife got in the divorce. I still remember the drapes we open and through the large picture window you could see trophies against the wall!

I have a disdain for modern Major League Baseball. (Post early 1990’s.) Too much money, to big of egos. Now I don’t begrudge sports figures money. But I have to wonder. Do they play the game for the money or for the love of the game? After all, it’s called “a game!”

Let me know what your favorite sports memory is, This is the Ol’ Sports Talker saying, be and athletic supporter!