I'm pretty sure we attended Dodger games after the opening day of the 1988 World Series but for obvious reasons that game will always have a unique place in my memory bank and of course....my heart.
You had just completed your first year in the Majors of Santa Monica Little League and as a 10 year old you held your own and displayed your talents against 11 and 12 year olds. The Dodgers had returned to the World Series for the first time since winning the whole thing in 1981. We were very fortunate to be given two seats in the last row of the right field pavilion. It would turn out that the right field pavilion would be immortalized every time video's would replay the infamous Kirk Gibson home run. I've watched the replay at least a few hundred times since 1988 and every time I know that you and I are jumping up and down and high-fiving each other and everyone around us. It was an epic moment for baseball and continues to be regarded as one of the greatest moments in World Series history. Of course it becomes a moment in our history that will never be extinguished....along with every moment we shared in the 15 years 10 months and 3 days of your physical reality.
You wrote a paper for your English class as a freshman at Loyola entitled "It's never over until the 54th out" and I didn't actually discover the paper until sometime later in the summer of 1994.....which turns out to be the year that no World Series was played because of a contract squabble between owners and players. The fact that the baseball season was shortened and no World Series played made perfect sense to me after what had happened on February 3rd 1994. To be honest I hadn't even followed baseball that year for the first time since I was 12 years old. Life was testing me in areas that had very little to do with sociological distractions, such as sports and politics.
I was very busy learning about non-physical reality and trying to understand why the Universe had decided to attack the very core of my existence.
I've created many various artistic and literary answers, whether or not they are valid is entirely up to the audience, and I am somewhat content to report that many of those answers make sense and allow me to continue believing in a Universe that is dominated by love and particle expansion while at the same time displaying an abundant amount of chaos and decay.
But for this letter I want to remember the shirt incident as we arrived for the first game of the 1988 World Series. (If you save the picture and then zoom in you can read what Sean's shirt says. Sean is the only one standing in the above picture)
As we drove up the road to go into the stadium there was a guy hawking tye-dyed tee-shirts that said....Fuck Oakland on the front. The price $10. We went into the parking lot and as we got out of the car you said, "Dad, I really want one of those shirts." My answer was, "I'm not about to drive all way back there" and you said, "give me the 10 and I'll run and be back in a flash." Since you were an extremely fast young man it seems like you did it in record time. I don't remember waiting very long for you to return. You waited until we got to our seats before you put the shirt on and to this day I'm not sure if you wore it throughout the entire game or not. All I know is the Dodgers fucked Oakland big time in that game and throughout the series that only last five games.
Coaching you and watching you play baseball over the next five years is easily one of the great memories of my life. It's a memory that is only tarnished by the fact that we can't physically chat about not only those moments but all the other moments we shared as Father and Son.
Watching you develop your baseball IQ was really enjoyable for me and to be honest I was usually coaching the team but you as an individual were the glue that held the team together.
I realize how talented you were as an artist and as a writer but I always understood that those two things would simply improve as you got older. I didn't know how far you could go in the baseball world because no one can predict the outcome of a 12, 13, 14 or 15 year old baseball player unless they have names like Bryce Harper and Clayton Kershaw. Most of the 750 players in the major leagues
get there through extreme hard work and predicting how much work an 18 year old wants to spend to improving their baseball skills is almost impossible.
But you were a natural and your motion was always correct and you never really tried that hard because the talent was just there. I think you were starting to realize what it might take but of course the Universe had another plan.
And since the mysteries of the Universe will always far out number the known realities I'm not unsure that you aren't appearing in this World Series as some explosive 23 year old stud.
It would make sense on so many levels....and I defy anyone to prove that reincarnation isn't a reality.
My awareness of physical reality and my belief in non-physical reality allow me to view the first Dodger World Series experience in 29 years in a
new
and
exciting
way
IT'S A QUANTUM EXPERIENCE AND I'M DIGGING EVERY SINGLE MOMENT
and every baseball game I've watched since your first year in T-Ball at the age of six has included thoughts of you
I'm just
once more
overwhelmed
by
the love
I have for the game of baseball
and
of course
that
is
all
because
of
you.
I love you son
and thanks for bringing the Dodgers back into the
big show.
I don't expect a victory but neither did you or I expect to see a limping number 23 approach the plate in the 9th inning with two outs trailing 4-3 on October 15th 1988 and create a moment that will live forever in the annals of baseball history.
Love
Dad
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