My father didn't care for spectator sports; he went to Wrigley Field as a boy and was supremely bored, which infuriated me, as I didn't get to visit until my late 20s. My mom, along with her parents, turned me into the maniacal sports fan I am today. She could hold a grudge, too; she never forgave the Cardinals for trading Ken Boyer to the Mets after the 1965 season, only a year after his MVP season of 1964. We argued sports, and she loved all of them, as a devout Laker fan (until they got Kareem; if she were alive when Jerry West was with the Griz, she would have asked him why he acquired him) and as a Reds fan (Johnny Bench and Pete Rose were her guys), and interestingly enough, she was a Packer fan. Well, she wasn't perfect.
All of which leads me to this beautiful obituary Keith Olbermann wrote for his mother, Marie, who passed away recently. I urge you to go read it, it's a loving tribute without being maudlin in the slightest.
Rest In Peace, Mrs. Olbermann.
1 comment:
That was a beautiful story, and more importantly, a well lived, fun life.
Tying in with the anniversary of you becoming a Buddhist, I bet she gets to come back as a Yankee! (I also believe in reincarnation)
Post a Comment