It's Mother's Day, which around MLB means pink uniforms and hats and shoes and bats and stuff. That's all cool, I guess. For many, watching baseball is sort of a family bonding experience. A lot of people tend to associate baseball as a father-son bonding thing, or maybe a father-daughter thing, but that is not the case for me. I love baseball, and specifically Twins baseball, because I am my Mom's daughter.
I've written about my Mom on here before. She's been a Twins fan since the team moved here in 1961. She was able to buy tickets to the 1987 World Series from the Kauffmans (thank you Royals) and watched the team win their first championship from behind the plate (while leaving her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter at home... but I'll let that one slide Mom because you birthed me and whatever).
I remember waking up to the sound of my Mom crying downstairs on July 12th, 1996.
My Mom was so excited about the Twins after their hot start in 2001. We watched every game. When the news came out after the season ended about possibly contracting the Twins, you know what my Mom did? She got in her car, she drove to the Metrodome, and she bought a ticket to every single Twins home game for what would become the next 13 years. I know not everyone can afford to do something like that, ourselves included. That's why she sold our house in 2008. It was a nice house and all, but my Mom was not going to lose that priority number for her seats in the new stadium.
Mom went all out for 2002. She brought me and my brother and sister to Fenway Park, and I got to see David Ortiz hit a home run over the green monster to win the game for the Twins. Mom was so sad when the Twins released David, she bought MLB Extra Innings and a new TV to put in her office just so she could watch David with the Red Sox. Oh, and listen to Vin Scully, of course. Mom always put on the Dodgers games after the Twins.
When I moved to the east coast for college, I would call my Mom and we would talk for over an hour and the entire conversation would just be about baseball. We referred to players, and often still do, just by their first name. (Except Joe Nathan, for obvious reasons. Sorry Nathan, but you have two first names anyway.) Mom was so excited when I took a class on the social history of baseball, she scanned and sent me every old article about the Twins she could possibly find to use for my paper (and I got an A). I remember my Mom calling me from the Metrodome when the Twins won the division on the last day of the season in 2006, and even though all I could hear was screaming, I appreciated it.
I could go on forever about my Mom and her fandom that has apparently overflowed and spilled into me. I'm glad my Mom gets things like this:
I'm glad my Mom understands this order of text messages. pic.twitter.com/HlnnYF7Cxk— myjah (@KirbysLeftEye) May 8, 2016
I'm happy that my Mom is my Mom, and I love her. Almost as much as that Bartolo home run.
Happy Mother's Day to all of the mothers out there in Twins Territory (and especially to you, Dawn Luoma, for being the silliest, baseball-y-est, and greatest Mom ever!)