In the depth of her 41st summer with me, my wife knows as much about baseball and the Brewers as most people I know. It began by osmosis, but it has become a passion. Sometimes with a different “reasons” package than mine, but she knows and loves her some Brewers. Monday night, the Brewers recorded their 10th in a row, and my wife and I were there. The quest was to get her a ball from her guy, Sal Frelick. For the record, we’d never gone to any great lengths in the past for anything remotely close to “game planning for a ball”.
Best thing going for this effort was it was Pittsburgh on a Monday night. I was able to get the first row, lower corner of Sal’s Right Field. We were on the rail and the steps down into that party pit were on the other side of the rail. The Pre/Post game guys were up a row-height up and directly to my left. But it’s kind of the “how” we got there that was as important as what actually happened. Signs, numbers, tributes, and a harrowing bus ride would all help complete the romance.
My wife’s friend Mary Lou passed during COVID. World-class season ticket holder to the Packers and Brewers. She gave us more free tickets than you can count and like Uke, Lou would sure as hell be riding every wave of this season. Her angle on game day was the shuttle from Lucky’s Icehouse on 43rd and Greenfield. We took Lou to Lucky’s. Met the middle daughter there, who lives a mile up the road. The place was packed, with my wife and I being a part of the “young” crowd (must have been liver-n-onions night at the Senior Center). She and I shuttled over and settled in. And for 7 innings, we were just two idiots with a sign, but in the 8th the baseball gods smiled…and Sal Frelick delivered.
A classic Don chant is “One Time”. As he headed out to warm up in the 8th I yelled “One time in the corner Sal”. After he finished his warm-up tosses, he turned to our corner, my wife jumping around with her sign like a crazed woman, and me pointing to this crazed woman. Sal launched about a 100-foot throw that was right at my chest. Trust me in that 3.5 seconds, you’ve got all the time in the world. I was glad “don’t drop it” or “is this gonna hurt” didn’t cross my mind. After I caught it, we both looked at him and he pointed at us. My wife was literally losing her shit. After it was over, THEN I’m thinking, “glad I didn’t fuck that up”. I handed her the ball and got a kiss. Man, she was happy. The rest of the game was a blur.
The shuttle ride back to Lucky’s was unreal. Ronnie, the lady behind the wheel, took no prisoners. I was sure I was going to rip the storage compartment off the wall that I was hanging on to. The dude standing behind and “holding up” my wife was the happiest guy on the bus. And amazingly, upon our return, those old-ass Seniors were still in there drinkin. We stayed and got our 2nd drink free and drank a final shot to Mary Lou. My wife thinks Sal pointed to us because of my catch. I think Sal pointed to us because of her sign. Maybe he pointed to us as a way of sayin, “glad you folks got paid off for the effort”. Or maybe it was the baseball gods recognition of some people showing some loyalty and respect to a die-hard who would be in the middle of every huge win and new streak. At the end of the day, it is still the romantic sport of baseball that helped create a night that two people together for 41 years will never forget.
Ya Can’t Help But Be Romantic About Baseball
Sal Frelick Delivers Again
In the depth of her 41st summer with me, my wife knows as much about baseball and the Brewers as most people I know. It began by osmosis, but it has become a passion. Sometimes with a different “reasons” package than mine, but she knows and loves her some Brewers. Monday night, the Brewers recorded their 10th in a row, and my wife and I were there. The quest was to get her a ball from her guy, Sal Frelick. For the record, we’d never gone to any great lengths in the past for anything remotely close to “game planning for a ball”.
Best thing going for this effort was it was Pittsburgh on a Monday night. I was able to get the first row, lower corner of Sal’s Right Field. We were on the rail and the steps down into that party pit were on the other side of the rail. The Pre/Post game guys were up a row-height up and directly to my left. But it’s kind of the “how” we got there that was as important as what actually happened. Signs, numbers, tributes, and a harrowing bus ride would all help complete the romance.
My wife’s friend Mary Lou passed during COVID. World-class season ticket holder to the Packers and Brewers. She gave us more free tickets than you can count and like Uke, Lou would sure as hell be riding every wave of this season. Her angle on game day was the shuttle from Lucky’s Icehouse on 43rd and Greenfield. We took Lou to Lucky’s. Met the middle daughter there, who lives a mile up the road. The place was packed, with my wife and I being a part of the “young” crowd (must have been liver-n-onions night at the Senior Center). She and I shuttled over and settled in. And for 7 innings, we were just two idiots with a sign, but in the 8th the baseball gods smiled…and Sal Frelick delivered.
A classic Don chant is “One Time”. As he headed out to warm up in the 8th I yelled “One time in the corner Sal”. After he finished his warm-up tosses, he turned to our corner, my wife jumping around with her sign like a crazed woman, and me pointing to this crazed woman. Sal launched about a 100-foot throw that was right at my chest. Trust me in that 3.5 seconds, you’ve got all the time in the world. I was glad “don’t drop it” or “is this gonna hurt” didn’t cross my mind. After I caught it, we both looked at him and he pointed at us. My wife was literally losing her shit. After it was over, THEN I’m thinking, “glad I didn’t fuck that up”. I handed her the ball and got a kiss. Man, she was happy. The rest of the game was a blur.
The shuttle ride back to Lucky’s was unreal. Ronnie, the lady behind the wheel, took no prisoners. I was sure I was going to rip the storage compartment off the wall that I was hanging on to. The dude standing behind and “holding up” my wife was the happiest guy on the bus. And amazingly, upon our return, those old-ass Seniors were still in there drinkin. We stayed and got our 2nd drink free and drank a final shot to Mary Lou. My wife thinks Sal pointed to us because of my catch. I think Sal pointed to us because of her sign. Maybe he pointed to us as a way of sayin, “glad you folks got paid off for the effort”. Or maybe it was the baseball gods recognition of some people showing some loyalty and respect to a die-hard who would be in the middle of every huge win and new streak. At the end of the day, it is still the romantic sport of baseball that helped create a night that two people together for 41 years will never forget.