Alphablog - I

I is for Indians (of the Cleveland variety).

I became a fan of the Cleveland Indians by association. My grandfather was from Ohio originally, but moved to Arizona to help manage his emphysema. Despite the move, Grandpa John was a huge fan of them up until the day he died. To this day when I picture him, I imagine him wearing his original Indians windbreaker - he wore that thing year-round over his blue and grey henley t-shirts.

I always kind of semi-rooted for the Indians because of him, and then when Clinton and I actually went to Cleveland a few years ago to see a game, we had an experience that made me a life-long Indians fan.

Before we left, I asked my step-mom if I could borrow Grandpa John's jacket so he could "come with us" to the game. I kept the jacket on my person at all times - I did not dare pack it in a checked bag, but made sure to have it in my carry-on. When we got to the stadium, we walked around to check things out like we usually do, and they had a statue and a big mural for Bob Feller, a hometown hero (Check out this link for a good article on Bob Feller). It was a cloudy day, and as I walked around the statue a bit of sun burst through the clouds down to an old man sitting on the ground near the mural. I don't know if he was homeless or if he was maybe just waiting for the game, and I don't know how to explain this, but I just knew it was Grandpa John letting me know that he was there.

Eventually we made our way into the game - I laid the jacket down over the seat and bought Grandpa his own Pepsi to set down next to it.

I just know he was there, I could feel him watching the game with us. It was awesome. Sadly, the game ended up getting rained out! There was a rain delay at first, and it seemed like they would continue to play, and I still felt Grandpa John lingering - but once they officially called it, I immediately felt a change and knew he had gone back up. "Thanks for the Pepsi honey, I'm out of here!"

Ever since then, I've just known that they are my team and always will be. When we went home I told my step-mom all about our experience and about a year later she ended up giving me that jacket. It hangs in my closet now and only comes out when I go to games, on the anniversary of his passing, and if we're watching a game on TV I'll throw it over a chair so he can come watch with us if he wants to - but he's got a pretty good view anyway - better than the one from my living room, I'm sure.

Clinton and I at a spring training game here in AZ a couple years ago - and check out that beard!

My custom jersey.

Every year on December 23rd I take the jacket out and put it on for a few minutes and talk to my Grandpa John. It's been several years since he left us, but every time I put it on I can smell him and see him lounging outside in the sun, or standing with his sweatpant-clad tush next to the open oven - my eternally cold, pepsi-drinking, JAG-watching, don't-try-to-fool-him-because-he-can-see-right-through-you-and-will-love-you-regardless grandad.