measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Baseball Memories There's a thread going on in the Diary-X forums today about "what you may not know about my hometown." Funky little threads like that interest me. And so I listed my tidbits about Billings, using some info off a website I'd forgotten in a while. I came across a tidbit of info that I *didn't* know, and saddened me quite a bit... and it brought back a memory that I hadn't thought of in quite some time. The tidbit was a death date for Dave McNally. And unless you're a baseball stats junkie or a fan of the Baltimore Orioles, you probably haven't heard of him. He has a unique stat in Major League Baseball-- he's the only pitcher to ever HIT a grand slam in the World Series. He's also one of the players who first demanded free agency in MLB, breaking the tradition of the reserve system-- and changed contract negotiations forever within the majors. I grew up with his daughter, Anne. She's a year younger than me, but we went to the same elementary school, junior high, and high school. In grade school she was in my split class (4th and 5th grade together in one classroom). We were in dance classes together, a makeshift version of Girl Scouts created by our moms (named Busy Bees for some unknown reason), and were friendly, but after grade school weren't really in the same social circles... but still would say hi when we saw each other in the halls. I'm not sure whether my parents knew the McNallys simply through PTA meetings, or whether they'd met via "the wives" through Junior League or the YWCA (which my mom was heavily part of)... or if maybe they bought a car from him at some point-- since Dave opened a car dealership when he moved back to Billings. Regardless, the McNallys were at my parents' pool kickoff party when I was 8. We were the first of my friends to have a completed inground pool-- and it had just won some Better Homes & Gardens regional design award or something... so the 'rents held some sort of a gathering to celebrate that and just invite folks over. In the front lawn (fenced away from the pool), a small game of baseball with the kids started up... and Dave was pitching. My dad's always been a baseball fan, but he was rather resistant to playing catch with his children-- which is why I remember that day so well. He was gleefully playing baseball as the catcher, kneeling down on his shitty knees, and having a great time. It was my turn to bat, and my dad whispered in my ear to watch and learn from the master. Of course, I was so confused that I turned my head to give my dad a puzzled look as the ball whizzed by. (no one said I was going to be a rocket scientist at baseball). On the third pitch, I hit a decent lob into the mock outfield. My dad was beaming at me the rest of the day-- and I thought the man had gone insane. Off and on the rest of the day, Dave and my dad talked baseball. Pro baseball-- as in family "war stories" about minor and major leagues. My dad's entries into the conversation came from my late grandfather, who had been playing the minors as a pick for the Detroit Tigers before he went off to fight in World War II. After the war, he didn't go back to baseball because he had a family to support and needed the steady job. they laughed, they played catch. It is one of the few memories I have of my dad playing catch. Which has always struck me as odd since he loved watching baseball, and his kids were always bugging him to toss a few in the front yard "field." It wasn't until several years later that Dad told me about Dave's little statistic. I believe it came up as we were watching afternoon baseball one day, and it was one of those stats questions before commercial break quiz things. And now, as an adult, I realize that my dad was living a little vicariously through me. His first-born hit a ball-- however shakily-- off a World Series-gone pitcher. The sports fanatic in him must have been going insane. So as I was searching today for some weird facts on Billings that I might not know-- I found a (1942-2002) next to his name. The first thing that came into my mind was the smell of the grass in the front yard that hot June afternoon. RIP Dave. 2:48 p.m. - 19 March 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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