Meeting Steve Garvey + A Grand Slam
Two Iconic Moments at Dodger Stadium
The first time I went to Dodger stadium I came after a work-related retreat. It was a hot sunny LA day in the time before smart phones - and obsessive social media posting. One of my colleagues at the time invited us all to the game and one by one people declined - they had other places to be and things to do. I was the only one up for it.
“If it’s just the two of us” she said, “then we’ll just go meet my step-dad”
He happened to be none other than Dodger-legend Steve Garvey. He played primarily as a first baseman, was a ten-time All-Star, won four Gold Glove Awards for his outstanding defensive prowess, and captured the National League MVP award in 1974. He played a key role in the success of the Los Angeles Dodgers, helping the team clinch four National League pennants and a World Series title in 1981.
We sat just behind the dugout, enjoyed the spoils of the food spread for the super VIP and he and I talked the whole game. We ran into Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock in the elevator. The Dodgers won.
It was about an iconic Dodger moment that you could possibly get - and one that I never thought could be topped. Until last night.
The Dodgers played the White Sox in the last of a three game set. My two eldest sons and I attended - arriving fashionably late on a June-Gloom evening. The chill was hanging in the air like the tune from a crappy but catchy song. Our seats were about as high as you could get up a flight of stairs and two escalators. In the distance you could see the glimmering of the light of Los Angeles. Someone was sitting in our seats so we sat in the rows just above and watched as they spent the whole game snapping selfies. The Dodgers started sloppy, allowing two back to back dingers and by time it was the bottom of the 6th they were down 4-0 showing little fight but my boys were there for the experience and we were having a good time observing how the fielders moved on different plays, hoping to see some action on the base paths.
We’ve spent some time in LA recently and they’ve played a lot of little league baseball. My middle son played for a Dodgers team and rocked #42. Last year they played for a White Sox team that went undefeated and won all the possible games they could win. They came to the game wearing their Dodger wearing Dodger jerseys and White Sox hats! I was wearing my Brooklyn Dodger cap and a Jackie Robinson jersey, holding it down for Brooklyn and the Trolley Dodger “Bums” so no matter the outcome we were grateful.
But these Dodgers did not disappoint. In said bottom of the 6th they managed to get the bases loaded. Then this happened right before our eyes.
A Grand Slam!
The game ended in extra innings and by then we were long gone but the Dodgers won it in the 11th - walk off fashion. As a father, I can safely say, this moment was better than my interaction with a Dodger legend only because I could see the wonder and excitement in my sons’ eyes. What a gift. I am very very grateful. Alhummdulilah!
This reminds me of a piece of flash fiction i wrote and shared a while back that I think you will enjoy. Here is is below:
They say that God is still out there creating at the very edges of the universe. That’s what I am looking for in the people and things around me — to see if God is creating, not just at the edges of the universe, but at the edges of us.
Construction is cracking the sidewalk on one side of the street. Cars are parked illegally and men in suits and uniforms scurry about like lab rats. Cigarette smoke drifts up from people pacing. I like to spend time looking at peoples’ faces. I look to see where their lines etch stories into their faces and think about what they will look like when they are old and wrinkly, or what they used to look like when they were babies.
Lots of people like me walk out of these downtown administrative buildings with our death certificates in hand, looking out into the street for any direction. An old man approaches. We make eye contact. His eyes are deep wells of certainty. We greet one another. I liked him instantly. I’d seen him before. He was the same old guy who sprayed saliva out of the side of his mouth and sold jewelry on the street in front of the court buildings downtown.
His face sparkled to me even though it was flattened and bent. Like things broken, they were once straight. Like things rotten, they were once fresh. Each moment is simply a test to see whether you can see the sparkling around you, or whether your vision is scarred and dull like the pain from an old broken bone.
He had an open can of beans asking for money, but he did not ask me for anything. Instead he pulled me aside and told me that Mickey Mantle and Don Larsen were his favorites. He’d been to Ebbets Field when it was the place to be. Said he even found a $20 dollar bill there once. He bought hot dogs, pickles, and knishes for all his friends and they sat in the upper deck seats until the 7th inning when they snuck down to just above the dugout. From there they saw Pee Wee Reese end the game with a 9th inning two-out double, and Jackie Robinson scored from first.
Fiction © Ibrahim Abdul-Matin, 2019. All rights reserved by the author.
