Going anywhere with Patricia was similar to attending a Jimmy Buffet concert. Fun? Guaranteed. Also, full of some delightful surprises.
August 12, 2015, Patricia and I attended a Seattle Mariner game together. Before the game began, Patricia was bellowing, “Go Mariners!, Go Mariners!” which was strange because she never bellowed anything. It was more like screaming or a delightful cackle. Being her brother and friend, and my seat mate, I just couldn’t shout positively about a team I believed unworthy of this type of adoration. Let’s call it straight, The Mariners sucked.
As a baseball nerd, I love attending games with people who appreciate the boring, yet complicated art of the sport. Sometimes, I expect those people to be like me. I pay attention at games. Patricia wasn’t like me. She wasn’t like anyone I knew. She was an original.
We watched eight innings together, laughing and enjoying the game she wasn’t watching. I was recognizing something special, and it wasn’t just the game. Patricia and I were watching a no hitter, an extremely rare occurrence and something neither of us had seen before. I knew what was happening. She didn’t.
Baseball superstitions are essentially ridiculous, but there are times you don’t want to irritate the baseball Gods. You never mention a no hitter is occurring until the ninth inning. Otherwise, the pitcher is doomed for failure. So, it turned out perfectly swell for me. I was keeping my mouth shut, and I knew Patricia would keep hers shut because she didn’t know what the Hell was happening. She was simply enjoying the game and atmosphere, just not the details. Normally, that would have bothered me, but to witness her pure joy during a game which was historic for us made me think, “Damn. I wish was more like her”. Instead, I was feeling the pressure vicariously from the pitcher. It was making me nervous.
In the ninth inning, Patricia turned to me and said, “This is so much fun, but why is everyone so excited? The Mariners have a big lead. I’m surprised people aren’t heading for the exits.”
That’s when I directed her attention to the scoreboard. “Do you notice those zeroes on the the scoreboard? They don’t just represent zero runs, they also display the Mariner pitcher is three outs away from a no hitter.”
Insert Patricia’s jubilation. “What!!!!!!!!?”
I told her we may see something live very few people will ever get to witness, even on t.v..
For the last three outs, her screams became something even an earthquake would respond to by saying, “Ok, settle down, Patty.” I loved it. She was loving the game more than me. I didn’t think that was possible.
The no hitter was kept intact, and I”ll never forget it, but I didn’t celebrate it. I celebrated a person who didn’t give a Yankee dime about the outcome. As always, she was celebrating life. Remarkably, because of her, so was I. Absolutely proud and honored witnessing it with her, I was so pleased to have the gift of her as a sister.
Personally, I hate parades, but Patricia deserves one. St. Patrick can take a back seat today, because, as you know, it is St. Patty’s day. She is watching us celebrate her. Damn right.