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Monday, April 18, 2011

Why I HATE Baseball Season

Don't get me wrong, I'm a RedSox fan, but it's only by blood. My father was a HUGE Sox fan, so I feel like I have to carry it on. I have no problem rooting for the Sox, I just have a problem with watching the games. The noises during the broadcast remind me so much of my father it's too much to deal with. I know that after seven years, I should be able to at least watch baseball, but, no matter how hard I try to block it, all I can remember when I hear announcers and the fans in the background is my Dad. It instantly takes me back to summer nights growing up while he was still with me. Sitting out on the patio, watching the games with him. Ghetto as it may be, we used to put the cable wire through the window, and a TV on the picnic table so we could watch the games outside. Growing up I lived across the street from the beach, and I don't mean "across the street" from the beach, I mean walk out of my drive way, cross the road, walk about 10 ft down a sandy path to the ocean. Okay, well, it was a Bay, but it was the ocean all the same. So from out patio, you could see the water and hear the waves crashing down on the beach. Back then, I never know I would appreciate those moments, even those seconds I spent with my Dad out there on that patio watching the Sox, with the waves in the background. Nothing else in the whole world mattered then. All I had to worry about was if I was going to wake up early enough to beat all my friends to the beach. Life was truly a breeze back then, and I would give anything to go back to those nights, and relive those very moments forever. 

I Love and Miss You, So Much Dad.

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