Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.
Day Twelve: Octavio Dotel, Pittsburgh Pirates
It was a beautiful Monday night in May, and the family decided to meet up for dinner. My parents drove up from the Jersey Shore, my brother hopped over the bridge from Brooklyn, and Amy, the girls and I hustled over from central Jersey. Our meeting place was one of New York City’s premier pizzerias: Joe & Pat’s of Staten Island.
We devoured the house salad, with its sprinkling of red peppers and its heavy dose of Italian dressing. We congratulated my brother, Eric, on finishing his master’s degree, and showered Katie with praises for her second-grade report card. After the salad, our waitress brought us two large-cheese pies, with their thin crusts, delightfully sweet sauce, and tender cheese. This is the same pizza we would eat with my grandfather when we’d take him out for lunch in his later years. On this night, the pies were gone before we could finish catching up on one another’s lives.
The night was young enough that we could all drive a couple miles north to Ralph’s Ices, where we’d treat ourselves to some delicious fruit ices at one of the oldest Italian ice shops in New York City. I hopped in Eric’s car for the short trip from Joe & Pat’s to Ralph’s. As we talked, I kept waiting for the conversation to turn to baseball – fantasy leagues, Yankees, anything. But on this night, we had so much more to converse about – summer plans, our own writing, the new job a friend has taken in a Brooklyn school, and the upcoming christening of another friend’s daughter.
It felt rich and rewarding, for all of us to spend this time together and for my brother and I to shift our conversation away from baseball for a night. Of course, as the girls neared the ends of their ices, Eric and I finally broke down. We started talking about Pirates reliever Octavio Dotel, and whether we can rely on him for our joint fantasy baseball team. We gave it about a minute of talk and thought, then moved on to something else. Chelsea wanted Eric to see her new tattoo, and Katie wanted to drive back to our house with her grandparents.
It was time to go. The night had been sweet. And while Octavio Dotel might not know it, his current team once had a theme song some 30 years ago: Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family.” The song had a much different context inside the 1979 Pirates locker room than it did for an evening of pizza in 2010. But its overall message – sure, it was just the same.
Showing posts with label "We Are Family". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "We Are Family". Show all posts
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Handing Out Stars
I’ve been reading Barack Obama’s The Audacity of Hope lately. I’ve been watching some of his speeches as well. As a voter, I’m looking for a leader who strives for unity – between individuals, between cultures, and between groups of every kind. I like what I see from the senator, and I’ve found the audacity to hope he might actually win.
When I watch and read about pro sports, I don’t see nearly as much unity as I’d like to see from a profession that has so often prided itself on teamwork. I keep seeing fights between teams and even between players on the same team. I keep reading about athletes who are unhappy with eight-figure salaries. I read of relationships between Hall of Fame players and their teams disintegrating over nonsense.
It’s with this in mind that I’ve been thinking about the 1979 Pirates lately. Before they were a team that refused to keep their good players, the Pirates were a powerhouse. Nearly a decade after the death of Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell led Pittsburgh to a ’79 World Series matchup with Earl Weaver’s mighty Baltimore Orioles. The Pirates had taken America by storm that year, as first baseman Stargell awarded stars to his teammates when they made a good play or had a good game, and the players placed these stars on their caps as if the stars were Cub Scout badges. The team also proclaimed Sister Sledge’s hit song “We Are Family” to be their anthem. This ballclub’s unity paid off well in the end, as the Pirates were able to keep their composure and rebound from a 3 games to 1 World Series deficit to win the World Series. Stargell and company were smiling the whole time, and they helped buoy a country galvanized by recession, terrorism and an energy crisis.
As the America of 2008 faces such similar challenges today, I look for signs of hope and unity. I hear Barack Obama, and I listen closely. I feel inspired. When I look over to the baseball field, I crave the sight of more selfless dedication to team on the diamond. I wait for someone to step forward, turn on some late-‘70s disco music and start handing out stars. Mr. Jeter, Mr. Varitek, Mr. Rollins, Mr. Pujols – what do you think? It’s worth a try. It’s a change I can believe in.
When I watch and read about pro sports, I don’t see nearly as much unity as I’d like to see from a profession that has so often prided itself on teamwork. I keep seeing fights between teams and even between players on the same team. I keep reading about athletes who are unhappy with eight-figure salaries. I read of relationships between Hall of Fame players and their teams disintegrating over nonsense.
It’s with this in mind that I’ve been thinking about the 1979 Pirates lately. Before they were a team that refused to keep their good players, the Pirates were a powerhouse. Nearly a decade after the death of Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell led Pittsburgh to a ’79 World Series matchup with Earl Weaver’s mighty Baltimore Orioles. The Pirates had taken America by storm that year, as first baseman Stargell awarded stars to his teammates when they made a good play or had a good game, and the players placed these stars on their caps as if the stars were Cub Scout badges. The team also proclaimed Sister Sledge’s hit song “We Are Family” to be their anthem. This ballclub’s unity paid off well in the end, as the Pirates were able to keep their composure and rebound from a 3 games to 1 World Series deficit to win the World Series. Stargell and company were smiling the whole time, and they helped buoy a country galvanized by recession, terrorism and an energy crisis.
As the America of 2008 faces such similar challenges today, I look for signs of hope and unity. I hear Barack Obama, and I listen closely. I feel inspired. When I look over to the baseball field, I crave the sight of more selfless dedication to team on the diamond. I wait for someone to step forward, turn on some late-‘70s disco music and start handing out stars. Mr. Jeter, Mr. Varitek, Mr. Rollins, Mr. Pujols – what do you think? It’s worth a try. It’s a change I can believe in.
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