Of course, I never made the Reds. My ball playing took a different route. I played from the time I was seven until I was about 35. Enough was enough for me. But. To this date, as far as I know, there has not been a female player on the Reds’ roster. Regardless. My aspirations at seven, as lofty as they were, never came true. At least to that measure.
Back in those early days, it was a great deal of fun going to watch the Cincinnati Reds. Those were their Glory Days. The line-up was more than impressive, with the likes of Tony Perez, Davey Concepcion, Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench, Pete Rose, Ken Griffey, George Foster, Cesar Geronimo, and more.
We didn’t go very often. Maybe twice that I can remember. There were a bunch of us kids, and I don’t imagine it was in the regular family budget. As it were, we always sat in “Nose Bleed Heaven.”
I don’t remember the hassle of getting there. The traffic, or the walk into the park. But I do remember all the excitement of the game. We could almost actually see the players, and, with binoculars, read their names on the backs of their jerseys. Yep, that would be me someday. I was sure of it.
It is funny how certain events in our current lives elicit memories from our past. A week ago, we went down to Cincy with some of the grandkids to watch an FCC game. Futbol Club Cincinnati. It was a much different experience than the Reds’ games of yore. But something about being in a stadium, with the crowds, and the lights, and the vendors trolling the aisles with their wears. All those thoughts of Riverfront Stadium came rushing back in.
And then by chance, on our way out, I noticed a hot dog, or sausage, of some degree, abandoned on the pavement. I yelled “Weiner Down! Weiner Down!” Which, caused quite a stir. Several men went running in the opposite direction. Regardless, it was all wrapped up in the memory-package that went along with the experience of the game.
Memory plays a big role in our lives. Huge, in some cases. As much as we are “supposed” to “stay in the moment” — we need our memories. We need them to function in our everyday lives. To survive. Without a memory, we, literally, could not put one foot in front of the other.
But they come in all sorts. And if we are lucky, we have made really good memories in our past. Like the Reds’ Game when I was seven. I’m sure we are not supposed to live in the gone-by. Yet, for me, those kinds of memories are every bit as important as knowing the stove is hot, the light switch flips upward, and that the milk goes in the fridge. Those beautiful glimpses of the past are just as amazing to me, as remembering how to breathe.
“Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: it gives back life to those who no longer exist.”
― Guy de Maupassant
“I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.”
― Virginia Woolf
“The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
“Right now I’m having amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. I think I’ve forgotten this before.”
― Steven Wright