A Christmas Miracle
Dec 26th, 2006 at 7:24 pm by Susie
The only things I wanted of my father’s were the Phillies tickets. Not just any tickets, mind you - these were the tickets to games 1, 6 and 7 of the famed “phantom” 1964 World Series.
See, the Phils only had 12 games left in their schedule and led the National League by 6½ games. It was such a sure thing, the World Series tickets were already printed. But (true to Philadelphia tradition) they hit the skids with a ten-game losing streak.
To me, they’re the ultimate reminder of the Philadelphia sports fan credo: “They could still lose.”
Anyway, I really wanted them. It wasn’t just the Phillies, it’s that I remember looking at them so many times while I was growing up (he kept them in a metal pirate’s chest on his bureau). And to look at the tickets reminds me of how my dad would sit on the porch in the dark, listening to the game on the radio. I’d see his dim outline and the glowing embers of his Phillies blunt cigar in the dark, hear the crack of a bat and the announcer yell, “It’s outta here!” To me, that was summer.
Problem is, we couldn’t find the tickets anywhere. My mother thought she probably threw them out when she went through Dad’s things, and finally I just surrendered the desire. (Very bodhisattva of me, don’t you think?)
But Mom found them on Christmas Eve, tucked away in the desk drawer with the church collection envelopes. (Personally, I think my dad had something to do with her finding them.)
So they were a Christmas present, and I’m so happy to have them. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
that’s pretty cool!
what a wonderful gift!
yeah, my childhood is also suffused with the sound of harry kallas and richie ashburn.
Way cool,I love stories like this…
My grandfather was a tremendously important figure in my life when I grew up in Baltimore. Even after I moved 2000 miles away, I made it a point to visit him once a year. Late in life, he began collecting antique iron toys. 3 months before he died, I spent a full day with him. Before I left he showed me his latest acquisition, an iron replica of an Amish horse and carriage. When he died, I was recovering from back surgery and couldn’t attend his funeral. I spoke to my aunt on the day he was buried and requested anything of his, I didn’t care what it was, even telling her I’d be happy with one of the broken watches he kept in a desk drawer. My aunt was a bit evasive and worried that if she sent me something, all the other grandkids would expect something too. We left it there. Months went by and I heard nothing. I figured my request was either forgotten or denied. One day, a UPS truck brought a package to my door with my aunt’s return address on it. Inside, I found the very same Amish carriage. She had no way of knowing how he proudly showed it to me.
[...] my dad (who suffered through the Great Phillies Choke of 1964) is [...]