Grandfathers Appreciation

Grandfathers Appreciation

The year was 1982. I was just eight years old, not a care in the world other than how late I can stretch out my play time on a school night. I longed for the weekends because I could stay out until the street lights came on! At this particular time, videogames weren’t the mainstay of child entertainment. My friends and I relied on good ole physical activity in the lines of sports and bicycles to pass our time. Anything that kept me from my daily routine of fun and excitement were a real downer in my eyes. One of the things I despised the most was the routine visits to my grandparent’s house. Don’t get me wrong I loved my grandparents, it’s just that every visit involved me being put to work doing various
jobs around the house, such as fence painting, lawn mowing and the occasional cleaning of the garage or basement. I really didn’t mind helping out its just at that age who wouldn’t rather be playing a game of stickball with his friends. One time in particular I was volunteered to paint the chain link fence that surrounded their small suburban home. This was an undertaking that took me several visits to accomplish. This job turned out to be a blessing in disguise. After I completed the job, to my surprise, my Grandfather told me that he was going to take me to a St Louis Cardinals football game at Bush Stadium in downtown St Louis. I had never been to Bush Stadium before, and had only seen games on the television up to this point. The man I called Grandfather was not my real Grandfather. He had married my Grandmother when I was four years old. I think up to this point of my life I didn’t really think of him as my Grandfather because of him marrying into the family. He was a small, gentle man with grey hair. He always seemed to be on the go, from sun up to sun down. He could run circles around me on my best day! He was in his late sixties and had the stamina of a marathon runner. I few weeks had past and the weekend of the game had finally arrived.
The game fell on a Sunday afternoon. I’m pretty sure that I didn’t get a wink of sleep the night before. I had been guarding the front door, like a soldier on the front lines, in anticipation of my Grandfathers arrival that morning. My patience had finally paid off when I saw his 1976 Buick Electra turn the corner at the end of the block. My Grandfathers car was as big as battleship, same color too! Before he could pull in the driveway I was already waiting for him at the street. With a wave back at my parents we were off. I believe the drive downtown from my house was only about a 45 minute drive but it seemed like hours. Even with all the talk about how the Cardinals players had been doing thus far that season. I remember my Grandfather going on about how Neil Lomax was going to have a fantastic year and break the passing record for touchdown passes this season. Now I wasn’t very old but I was thinking that my Grandpa was being a little delusional. We finally arrived downtown and I started to get a glimpse of all the tall buildings. I had never seen anything like it in person. I was in shock at the size of these structures. Within minutes we were at the stadium looking for a parking spot. Bush Stadium was magnificent in its appearance, large and round with the arched windows that circled the rooftop. Flags, adorned with team insignias, were flapping in the wind on the peak of these
arches. Crowds of people were piling in to the entrance ways and my excitement was really starting to build. I just couldn’t wait to see the field and the players in person and not on television like I had always saw them. Just when I thought we were about to go down the tunnel out to the field we made a stop at the concession stand for some drinks and snacks. This was the first time I had a stadium hot dog. To this day it was the best hotdog I ever had in my mouth. Ok, I’m thinking this is it; we had our snacks and drinks and were on our way to the tunnel that led out to the field. I started to see the field as I got halfway down the tunnel and I was in amazement at how little the actual field was. Seeing it on TV makes it look like it’s so much larger than it actually is. It was still a sight to see! The Cardinals were all on the sideline on the side of the stadium that we were sitting on. I could read the names on the backs of their jerseys, players I really idolized like Dan Dierdorf, Ottis Anderson and Roy Green. We were up against the New Orleans Saints this day and they were adorned with solid black jerseys. I portrayed them as the bad guys this day and we were the super heroes! The fans were really starting to fill the stadium and the roar of the crowd was infectious. It was almost too much to take in all at once. Next to come was the kickoff to the game. All the players from both teams were getting into position for the kickoff and they were hitting and slapping on each other to get themselves fired up. Boy I know I was! The ball was placed in the tee and refs backed out of the way and the crowd fired up like erupting volcano. The whistle blew and the kicker took his long strides towards the ball and whammo the football shot up in to air like a rocket ship. The next 60 minutes was packed with hard hits and fierce competition. The fight for every foot of field position was exhilarating. I cheered and screamed so much that by the end of the game it seemed as if my throat was ripped away from my body. The Cardinals pulled out a hard fought win, 21-7 over the Saints that day. It was one of the most memorable times of my childhood. I really thought I was a fan off football before that day, boy was I wrong. I’ve been a fanatical fan of the game ever since. I never had a problem going to visit my Grandparents after that day. Looking back on that day, seeing how my Grandfather enjoyed that game and was able to spend the day with me makes me wonder who came out ahead of that fence painting job!