How I Watched the Dodgers Clinch the World Series

I wasn’t lying in my plea to you entitled “I Have Game 6 NLCS Tickets and I’m a Dodgers Fan – Whom Do I Root For Tonight?“. Rather than agonize with my dilemma, I decided to go to dinner with my grandma for the first half of the game. I would be home by the sixth inning or so. Basically, I didn’t want to have to fight that part of me that might root against the Dodgers to selfishly watch them clinch in person.

So, I met my Grandma Bev at the local Italian restaurant we go to for dinner every other week. My wife couldn’t make it because she was stuck working (side note: special education teachers are the most overworked and underpaid people on Earth). I walked in to find my grandma sitting there in her usual spot under this nice piece of art. But something was different. The art piece wasn’t there and it turns out there’s a small television that it hides. And what was it showing? You know the answer.

When I walked in, the Dodgers already led 2-0 in the bottom of the second. Kershaw was on the mound. I’m happy to inform you that when I saw Kershaw pitching with a 2-0 lead that I couldn’t root against him or the Dodgers. Game Six tickets be damned. I was at peace with not going at that point. Moreover, I was happy to be witnessing our boys in blue try to clinch a World Series berth for the first time in almost three decades.

It was time to enjoy the evening. Grandma Bev is 93-years old but is now without her partner in crime. My Grandpa Arnie passed away just over a year ago. They had been married for sixty-nine plus years when he died. Grandma has things she enjoys in her new life routine and still has people who love her but she feels lonely. How does one go from living with one’s soulmate for almost 70 years to going to bed alone every night? And to do that at 93-years old when your body and mind start to deteriorate is just unimaginable. As my Grandpa Arnie said to me a few years before he died, “getting old is no fun.”

The third inning’s fireworks led by Kiké Hernandez were a blur in my peripheral vision. I could hear the waiters and busboys cheer as they walked by behind me. Grandma and I talked for a long while before we ordered. Well, food that is. I had my vodka martini and Grandma Bev had her white wine.

By the time we started eating our meals, it was the sixth inning and the Dodgers were leading 9-1. The conversation shifted from talking about life to discussing issues of the day. We’re on the same political team, so politics are a pleasant conversation topic. After we tired of trying to figure out how Trump is the President of the United States, we recounted how much fun it is to watch my 1-year old nephew motor around my parents’ house during Sunday dinners.

With dinner winding down, we started talking about Grandpa Arnie. Not in a despondent way though. We talked about some of the vacations they took. We talked about our dinners together. We talked about UCLA basketball and the time that she was at dinner with Grandpa Arnie and got to meet Coach John Wooden. We talked about my Sunday mornings with him growing up. I played golf with him and his friends every Sunday. I told Grandma that once a month Grandpa would have pancakes at breakfast after golf and make me promise not to tell Grandma Bev. She liked that. Finally, Grandma and I talked about how Grandpa Arnie would correct us (“No, Eric, it takes 8 minutes to get home from here, not 10”) then laughed as we did. Basically, a happy trip down memory lane.

As we took our last exit on memory lane, the Dodgers stood three outs from the World Series. We both sat in silence, finishing up the dessert we were splitting. With one out to go, I clued Grandma Bev in to the fact that history was about to happen just over her head. A few seconds later, the Dodgers had done it. The restaurant that didn’t seem to be paying attention to the game erupted in cheers. Grandma Bev celebrated the moment in the most Grandma Bev way imaginable when I told her we’d done it: “Oh that’s just wonderful Eric. How wonderful for the Dodgers. I’m so happy for them”, she said, with a big smile on her face.


I drove Grandma Bev home and dropped her off. She was smiling as she got out. We had enjoyed a nice evening. Afterward, I capped off the night by stopping by my parents’ house to hug my Dad in celebration (and catch that crazy Raiders/Chiefs finish). Then I stopped by a friend’s house to toast with my friends who were gathered to celebrate the moment. Finally, I made it home, kissed my wife good night, and went to sleep. I’m not going to Dodger Stadium today but I’m okay with that, well, mostly okay. On to the World Series. Go Dodgers!

P.S. For those of you who offered money to let my sister and I buy World Series tickets to avoid the dilemma, thank you. If you meant it, rather than give us the money, please donate to your favorite charity. If you don’t have one, click here to help the hurricane victims of Puerto Rico. Here to help the hurricane victims in Houston. Here to help fire victims in California. Here to help child earthquake victims in Mexico. And here to help the animal shelter where we got our family dog, Ace, who past away a couple of years ago.

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  1. Pingback: Random Thoughts During Game 6 of the World Series - Rudin Writes

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