We made it the game pretty late, getting there just a bit before the first pitch but I had zero concept of time and wanted to get some autographs. So, my dad walked with me down to the Rangers sugout to see if I could grab a few. Just as an usher was telling us to go back to our seats, the greatness of then Rangers Manager, Bobby Valentine popped his head out of the dugout. Now, despite the fact that Bobby never had any clue how to manage a pitching staff, he was a really good guy and a great ambassador of the game. My dad called out to him saying, "Bobby, can my son get an autograph? It's his first baseball game." Bobby walked out of the dugout, came over and started talking to me, asking me my favorite Rangers player, what position I played, etc. He signed my ball and I thanked him, but before I could grab my ball he told me to stay put. Bobby walked back down the dugout steps and a few moments later a line of former Ranger greats walked out, said hello, & signed my ball. Scott Fletcher, Oddibe McDowell, Pete O'Brien (who was a baseball god in Arlington at the time), Steve Buechele, Darrell Porter, Geno Petralli, & even Ruben Sierra came out and gave me their autographs. They'd hooked a Rangers fan for life (no matter how brutal they play). Many of my families closest baseball friends were met on that very night.
So, I won't bother bogging things down by going on a rant about the fact that Minnesota drummed Texas that night. Nevermind that the likes of Kirby Puckett, Gary Gaetti & Kent Hrbek looked like men among boys. Texas was & remains my team and I've watched them suck and fail and look terrible for over 20 years. But, like a nasty heroin habit, I always come back for more. More pain, more misery, more letdown.
Baseball season is upon us, boys and make no mistake about it, Texas will be out of the race by July. But I won't focus on that now. It's Spring Training and during Spring Training, everyone is still in the hunt.
Play ball, kids.
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