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When the rain washes you clean

A Sunday reflection

Cleveland Indians v New York Yankees Photo by Focus on Sport/Getty Images

The family owns a quarter-season ticket package with the Cleveland Guardians. Mom’s idea, I think. She could not resist the energy and fun with which Francisco Lindor played in 2015. And so, we took the plunge and started buying single-game tickets in 2016. Pretty good year for that.

In the meantime, my professional career derailed because a company for whom I’d relocated turned out to have lied about compensation, expectations, leadership structure, company goals, and even what the product was. If I didn’t make more than 100 calls to hospital administrators and set a certain number of meetings I was fired. Every day.

Ohio is a right-to-work state. You see where this is going. I ended up back in Chicago with my old job. Couldn’t really go to games with the family like we’d planned.

Fortunately, Tyler Naquin scored on an inside-the-park home run against the Blue Jays that summer and my mother saw it live. My sister jumped and screamed next to her. I called and chatted with them after the game. Season tickets were inevitable, and I managed to claw my way back to Ohio.

Most people I meet in person still say “Sportsball!” when I mention anything about the Guardians. I continue to be a fan because my mother gave up her career as a Director of Physical Therapy at a major hospital to raise a family.

She passed away this summer. She loved baseball. She shared it with us and taught us about it. Her father taught all the kids on his mail route how to throw a curveball. My father always volunteered to coach.

Sportsball, right?