Musings of a Dinosaur

A Family Doctor in solo private practice; I may be going the way of the dinosaur, but I'm not dead yet.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Punched in the Gut (Again)

I am about to reveal two pieces of information about myself that I have been withholding -- for the sake of "anonymity" -- until now.
  1. I love baseball, and
  2. I live in Philadelphia (for baseball purposes.)
My brother is about to celebrate his 13th wedding anniversary. I remember his wedding well; I found myself constantly checking on my small children off in a hotel room with a babysitter. Why yes -- there was a television there, to which my jock-precocious 6-year-old was glued. I was actually in the room for that wrenching (and wretched) Joe Williams' homer that defeated the Phillies in the World Series back in 1993.

It's been a long 13 years.

My brother and his wife have two beautiful daughters. My son has grown from a baby jock to a full-fledged one, always pulling for the "Fightin' Phils" -- though we used a different adjective that began with "f" to describe them; always snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. This season was one of the best so far. I really got into it. I also confess to growing attached to the players, forgetting they're just "playing pieces" traded regularly. I always feel a special attachment to anyone who used to be a Phillie. So when they announced that major trade a few months ago with the Yankees (Bobby Abreu and Cory Lidle) I was crushed. Bobby had always been a fan fave here, and Lidle had thrown some gems.

Yesterday afternoon I followed this blog in real time, stunned when I learned the name of the pilot. Although the national news refers to him as "New York Yankee Cory Lidle", the radio here this morning said, "Former Phillies pitcher Cory Lidle." Bottom line is that he was only 34. Sad however you cut it.

Another discolsure: my father has been a pilot since he was 16 years old, and has owned a small plane much of his life. Many of my treasured childhood memories are of "punching holes in the sky" with him on weekend afternoons. Actually, though, the headlines also display one of his greatest fears: that of dying in a plane crash with someone famous, so that the papers trumpet something like "Paris Hilton and 79 others killed in plane crash." How ignominious to be the "another man" killed "with Cory Lidle." I'm sure we'll find out more very soon; I haven't yet read the paper this morning. (I should stop blogging already and go read it.)


At Thu Oct 12, 08:35:00 AM, Blogger Big Lebowski Store said...

Misery loves company.

I'm a baseball fan and a Yankee fan, and a former New Yorker, and my parents had just returned to the Upper East Side (a mile away), and my team embarrassed themselves in the playoffs, and Cory Lidle is dead and leaves a wife and a 6 year old and my youngest is about to turn six.

And a plane crashes into a building in NYC of all places... AND it happened again during baseball season.



At Thu Oct 12, 05:27:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dr. Dino ... I'm half embarrassed to admit that my eyes glaze over when anyone says anything about sports. It must be contagious, because my entire family is like that ... and so was my family when I was growing up.

However, my dad also piloted small planes, and I have some fond, warm memories of flying with him on Sunday afternoons when I was young. He also learned to fly as a very young fellow. We lost him 19 years and 2 days ago, and I still miss him acutely. Thank you for making me think of him.

At Thu Oct 12, 10:07:00 PM, Blogger Fat Doctor said...

I'm just thinking that with all these personal tidbits, I could drive to Philadelphia and look and look and find you in about 5 YEARS FLAT! Geez...better be careful. :)

At Fri Oct 13, 06:22:00 AM, Blogger #1 Dinosaur said...

That's right: a sports fan in Philadelphia. Pretty unique. I guess secretly I must want to be found.


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