Braves Weekend

At Friday's game in the rain

My wife and I went on a Braves weekend to Atlanta on the weekend of Cinco de Mayo. The main point from that sentence is how great my wife is. She willingly joined me on a vacation where the focus was baseball. However, the main point of this post is my life accomplishment.

After high school I realized I was never going to be a professional
athlete. So, a lot of my goals on the life checklist were removed
due to reality. I was never going to catch for the Braves, nor would I ever be discovered in a church league softball game and get drafted. However, one baseball related dream remained: catch a ball at a major league game.

Every game I prepared myself on how I would catch it. Mentally grabbing it, but not going crazy by jumping over rows and knocking over popcorn. As I aged, it was less practical to bring a glove, so I had to mentally prep myself to fight through the pain and secure the catch. Always being aware at games by keeping my right hand free.

Don't be this guy. That is the nightmare.
(per headblitz.com)

However, as the years went by, I was never close. Rarely did a ball even come to the section I was sitting. The closest I ever came was at a Tennessee baseball game. I was down the first base line and there was a rocket hit, I stuck my hand up to catch it, but pulled it down at the last second, crumpling under the internal pressure. I think it probably hit someone in the face, I didn't look. My head was hung, too sick with myself for blowing my only chance. The silver lining that I managed to find was that I was saving it for a MLB game. I didn't want a college ball, I wanted the professional Rawlings.

So was the mindset as we went on the Braves weekend. However, rain threatened my dreams. They were calling for record rain that weekend. And, only Sunday had seats with a realistic chance of catching. Upper deck behind the plate, while a cheap seat and a great view, rarely see a good percentage of foul balls. Sunday, however, we were front row in right center field. But the forecast called for rain all weekend, even through Monday. And it was dead on. The rain began Friday and never stopped Saturday, even cancelling the game 5 hours before hand. And Sunday looked to be much of the same. Cloudy and cool. We assumed that "Bark in the Park" was going to leave Turner Field smelling like wet dog. Fortunately, Mother Nature decided to pull a fast one and turn a gloomy forecast into a very hot, sunny day.

My favorite seats at the Ted.

We were sitting in these great seats in the bottom of the seventh. I was finishing up noting in my scorebook that Tim Hudson struck out looking when Andrelton Simmons took a 2-1 pitch and drilled it right at us. As I watched the ball come toward us, I thought, "Cool, we'll be on T.V." Then as it hit the ground, I realized it would clear the fence. I reached out my hand, pen still there, and reached out to make the catch. It hit, ricocheted off the pen and spun in place as I closed my fingers around it. It was a dream come true. No crazy celebration, no dropped ball, just a great catch.

Catch a ball? Check!

It was even better than a foul ball, it was a live ball in play! A ground rule double. Not a lame, discarded strike. My wife laughs at me still because of how childish I looked, just smiling and holding on to the ball. It was a dream come true. Now it sits on my bedside table, watching over me and pumping in more baseball catching dreams.

The hammer is a bully.

My lovely wife!

El Oso Blanco