Recently Hubby and I attended an Atlanta Braves game. This game was monumental for us for many reasons, some which were apparent to us when we made plans for our trip and some which were cemented last night. This season was the final season that we would see the marvelous #6, Bobby Cox, manage the Bravos.
Bobby has been the Braves' manager since 1985. Hubby and I were 2 years old then and so he is the only manager we have ever known for our favorite baseball team. We're both huge fans. We cheer with the crowd even when we're just watching the game on television. I'm fairly sure that my neighbors think I'm insane because of that. I have been known to yell at pitchers, scream for victory, and do the Tomahawk Chop all with the windows open for everyone to hear. It's OK, I'm secure enough to not care. So when the announcement was made that the Skipper was retiring this year we both knew that we had to see one last game. We had hopes, especially earlier in the season, that the Braves would make it to the World Series but just to be safe we planned a trip to see the opening game of the last regular season series against the division champions, the Philadelphia Phillies. We didn't want to miss our chance and it just so happened that it was also the weekend of Hubby's birthday.
This is Herman. He was our ever so sweet usher for the evening. He welcomed us into our section of Turner Field with a warm hello and an introduction. Over the course of the evening he endeared himself to our hearts as he cheered for the Braves, let us all know that they WOULD go to the playoffs, he kicked people who were 20 years his junior (though still senior citizens themselves) out of someone else's seats, and told every single woman in our section that we were cute. Herman has worked for the Braves every year that Bobby Cox has been manager, a full 25 years. I assume he took the job when he retired from whatever it was he did in his younger life. He saw the Braves move from Fulton County Stadium to Turner Field. He was there for every blockbuster year in the '90s. He was there for the strike and the year they won the World Series. Herman is THE ultimate fan and I love him!
I know that this blog is typically about food so I had to share with you my favorite culinary delight of the evening: the Jumbo Dog. I'm normally a chili and slaw girl with my hot dogs but when you're at the ball park there's nothing better than grilled peppers and onions, relish, and a ton of mustard. I would also like to report that I ate this whole hot dog while wearing an all white shirt and didn't spill a drop on myself. Hip Hip Hooray!
We didn't win that night. Despite a late rally by our good old boys the Phillies prevailed that evening. That did not, however, change this one simple fact:
And so Hubby and I left Turner Field that evening and tipped our hats to the Skipper. We had hoped after the Braves went on to secure the Wild Card that Sunday that maybe we would still see them in the World Series and have one last chance to say goodbye to Bobby. But those dreams were let go last night as the San Francisco Giants took away our chances of advancing to the NLCS. So take a moment with me to become a Braves fan if you aren't one and thank one of the greatest managers in Major League Baseball.
Thanks Bobby. All the best.