Sportsssssssssss!

The sport I connect most with is baseball. Baseball not only holds a place in my life but it will always hold a place in my heart as well.

I’ve grown up around baseball. My dad played baseball all his life, so naturally I was exposed to baseball at a very young age.

My dad played baseball in the parking lot at St. Casmir, the fields at Kelly High School, and in Joliet for the Joliet Jackhammers. Then tragedy killed his dreams of going pro when he tore his Achilles. It was too hard to recover so quickly, so he had to hang up his cleats and get a steady job to support what would be his future family. My dad still had that quench to play ball and he then signed up to play with the Benito Juarez Mexican Baseball league. Sundays equals park, that’s just how it is in my mind. There’s never any question about it. Nothing stops my dad from playing. He played the day of his wedding, the day of my older brothers’ baptism, the day after I was born, and the day my older brother moved away. However, he was there nonetheless for all those special events in our lives. He shaved in the car on the day of his wedding, when he showed up late for the ceremony my mother asked him why at the alter and his response was “Babe, Championship game.” Eventually everyone got used to this. My parents always joke that this was the source of their split, and we always joke that the divorce rate in the league is 85%. Pitrowski Park is my second home. I grew up there and I’ll spend most summer Sundays there until my Dad decides to quit. Which will be never, which means I can’t escape baseball. Even if I tried.

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