Yesterday marked the 2012 Blue Jays' home opener and although the result was rather dismal, the energy level in my house could have powered the downtown core of Kitchener. Who knew that a love of baseball could be passed down genetically? My offspring did not get my green eyes, my right handedness, or my stubby little nose, but they did inherit my enthusiasm for a good ball game.
I remember outlasting rain delays at Exhibition Stadium. I remember 'The Wave' and Bobby Cox going toe to toe with a thoroughly misguided umpire. I'm a fan who remembers, Gruber, Stieb, Bell and Willllllllllllllie Uppppppshawwwww! Imagine my delight when I turned on the pre-game show and saw a white haired Buck Martinez! He's still the commentator I remember from years ago!
So I watched the game, by myself, as it was a night game (bummer for an opener!) and my little ones had to go to bed, (it was a school night.) I had my snacks, wine and was snuggled on the couch with my dog at my feet and my cat in my lap. I cheered and I clapped. I rout, rout, routed for the home team. They didn't win, it was a shame.
Why on earth Farrell pulled Oliver after the eighth inning I'll never know, but it was all downhill from there. However, I giggled this morning when my eldest woke with her usual less than sunny disposition, slunk down to her place at the breakfast table and grumbled her first words of the morning, "so, who won?" A new generation of Blue Jays fans emerges. Surely, combined with a stellar back-catcher, a proven right fielder and a dedicated fan base, the Jays have a good chance at the World Series. More importantly, I have two mini Jays fans to commiserate with when the manager pulls the reliever too early or changes the batting order at the last minute. Oh genetics are a powerful thing!
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