Tag Archives: baseball

Remembering War Heroes and Baseball

Summer in America means baseball, even if you aren’t a fan. The clip above is an artistic moment from a great baseball film, The Natural. I saw a clip from a Japanese game yesterday that showed a right fielder rifle the ball to the catcher at home plate, getting a runner out. The speed of that throw was thrilling–a little like the pitching portrayed above.

What else is going on this week?

Memorials: This week we honored the 80th anniversary of the invasion of Normandy. Of the 2,403 Americans killed on D-Day, 20 of them were from Bedford, Virginia, a community of 3,200. Over 40 Bedford residents were serving during the war, most in the Virginia National Guard. Their fallen were subsequently called the Bedford Boys.

This Stars and Stripes report has a list of the names of those who participated in the invasion.

War Correspondents: There’s a bed-and-breakfast in Chateau Vouilly, France, 20 minutes from Omaha Beach, that once housed the reporters who wrote the stories of the Allied troops advance. In 1944, it was a good, out-of-the-way spot, not too far from the action—for at least two months.

Every night, the hostess served the press corp milk and cookies. “On the tougher days, Hamel served glasses of Calvados, the famed local spirit made from distilled apple and pear cider. Reporters called it the ‘breakfast of champions.'”

Reading: About what novel did author Robert Louis Stevenson say this, “Many find it dull: Henry James could not finish it: all I can say is, it nearly finished me.”

Photo by Ben Hershey on Unsplash

Growing Up with the Cubs

The most challenging thing about suddenly taking in a 10-year-old who doesn’t start school for three weeks is figuring out what to actually do with them on a day to day basis. There are a lot of hours in a day, and every one of those hours needs filling. It is hard to whip up a busy routine from scratch, and it is doubly important to do so when that 10-year-old has just gone through what is likely the most traumatic thing she will ever endure.

One immediately fun activity involved the Cubs. I found a sports bar that would turn the Cubs games on while we were there, so we began going out to eat chicken fingers and watch the Cubs games. Early on, this meant weekends or the odd afternoon game so she could watch the whole thing. But even that changed, and the baseball became less important.

. . .  Baseball season ended, but Thursday night chicken fingers did not.