The first part of my life was spent being a San Francisco Giants fan as we lived at Travis AFB, California (in between San Fran and Sacramento--and we lived there for 7 years to be exact). The next team to take my heart was the St. Louis Cardinals as we lived at Scott AFB, Illinois (right across the river from St. Louis). Up until last year I had only seen the Atlanta Braves play in St. Louis and I was not a Braves fan. That year and a half we lived at Scott was the beginning of Desert Storm--so all military got to go to the games for $1. Needless to say I have fond family memories in that stadium.
I've lived in Georgia for the last 18 of my 31 years. Finally 2 years ago we moved to Atlanta. Then last year I went to my first Braves game as a Braves fan and this year I even went to the Cardinals game and cheered for the Braves.
I can't say I'm an avid baseball fan. Football-college football-Georgia Football to be exact-has my heart. But my grandparents were HUGE baseball fans. Atlanta fans they were and I rarely remember a visit at their house without a Braves game being on. I do have a passion for sports--guess that's the Daddy's girl in me--and we did always seem to watch the World Series together no matter who was in it.
This year I found my heart stirred as the playoffs started and even more so as we entered into the World Series. I all of a sudden had a born again passion for the San Francisco Giants. It was as if I was a 7 year old girl again living in California wanting our team to do well.
And that is what they did! I'm somewhat sad the series is over--I've enjoyed watching it in the evenings with my husband. He even rooted for the Giants--although he says it's because they are the National League Team. As my husband and I watched and cheered on the team I remember doing so as a little girl right along side my daddy. I have a vivid childhood memory that involves the Giants. It was our last summer in California as we knew that winter we were moving to Germany and we were given tickets to the game. I remember my dad asking me if I wanted to go--just the two of us--and I decided that day that I wanted to stay and play with my friends as the last day I had to play with them before school started.
I've often thought of that decision. I don't even remember the friends I chose that day over spending the day with my dad...but I do remember not going to the game. Somewhere along the road since then I decided I wanted to take my dad to a Giants game (in San Fran) to make up for it. It hasn't happened yet and I'm no longer his 8 year old daughter, but his 31 year old daughter...and I'm still looking forward to the day that that becomes a reality.
Needless to say, I didn't make that mistake again. My favorite childhood memory is from when we lived in Germany and my dad came home on a Friday afternoon from work and asked if I wanted to go skiing in France with him and another friend of ours and his kids. I said YES! And off the two of us went to France.
So thanks for walking down memory lane with me as the Giants won the World Series.....and thank you Daddy for giving me a passion for sports and recognizing when memory making opportunities come along to know to say yes. And we'll make it to San Fran again one day...I just know it!
**This is Day Two of NaBloPoMo**