Teach
12-26-2013, 10:51 AM
If only the baby could be born during the All-Star break,” I kept thinking. It was early July, 1970. Any day now, my wife Lee would give birth to our first child. As Lee’s due-date came ever closer, we had all our pre-birth preparations down to a science, even a couple practice runs to the hospital (of course, not during the time when the Red Sox were playing on TV). Now, if only the baby would wait...
I recall that second weekend in July had been unusually hot. My wife was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
That Sunday, July 12, the Red Sox were playing a day-game against the Cleveland Indians. As I’m glued to the tube, my wife is beginning to give me signals that it’s getting closer and closer to the time we needed to go to the hospital.
I remember saying, “Honey, can’t we wait just a few more minutes.” Although the Red Sox were winning (they’d eventually win, 8-2), I didn’t want to miss a single inning (over the years, I had always felt that if I weren’t watching, bad things could happen to my beloved Sox).
I recall that the game was just about over when my wife shrieked, “Walter, if we don’t leave soon, my water’s gonna break!” I must shamefully admit that it was a difficult for me to leave the TV while the Red Sox were still playing; yet I did shut off the set. I then escorted my wife to our car. Moments later, we were headed east toward a Boston hospital.
Once inside the car, I turned on the radio. The Red Sox had just salted away the victory. I was relieved. I could now devote all my attention to the birth of our first child. I was also comforted by the fact that the Sox had just taken their second straight from the Indians.
Well, we eventually made it to the hospital. It was shortly before six o’clock that evening. They rushed my wife up to maternity ward. I took up residence in the waiting room. I remember talking to our obstetrician. He told me that my wife was comfortable and that the baby’s delivery was a few hours away.
Actually, our baby, Lynne, was born shortly after midnight on July 13, 1970. I was thankful that she was a healthy seven-pound baby girl. The obstetrician said that both mother and daughter were doing fine. But, I must also admit that I was equally pleased by the fact that I’d now had the three-day All-Star break to rest up before the regular season resumed that Thursday.
By the way, my daughter grew up to be a beautiful, well-adjusted young women. That, despite the fact that her doting father was — and still is — a maniacal Red Sox fan. Today, she’s a pediatrician, with two children of her own.
Nowadays, every time my wife and I get together with old friends, she likes to kid me by saying that her “water almost broke” before we ever got to the hospital. I reply by saying that she should have been thankful that the game didn’t go into extra innings.
Oh, by the way, did I ever tell you about the day we were married. The Sox were playing the...
Did you ever have a similar experience? Sports? Racing?
I recall that second weekend in July had been unusually hot. My wife was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
That Sunday, July 12, the Red Sox were playing a day-game against the Cleveland Indians. As I’m glued to the tube, my wife is beginning to give me signals that it’s getting closer and closer to the time we needed to go to the hospital.
I remember saying, “Honey, can’t we wait just a few more minutes.” Although the Red Sox were winning (they’d eventually win, 8-2), I didn’t want to miss a single inning (over the years, I had always felt that if I weren’t watching, bad things could happen to my beloved Sox).
I recall that the game was just about over when my wife shrieked, “Walter, if we don’t leave soon, my water’s gonna break!” I must shamefully admit that it was a difficult for me to leave the TV while the Red Sox were still playing; yet I did shut off the set. I then escorted my wife to our car. Moments later, we were headed east toward a Boston hospital.
Once inside the car, I turned on the radio. The Red Sox had just salted away the victory. I was relieved. I could now devote all my attention to the birth of our first child. I was also comforted by the fact that the Sox had just taken their second straight from the Indians.
Well, we eventually made it to the hospital. It was shortly before six o’clock that evening. They rushed my wife up to maternity ward. I took up residence in the waiting room. I remember talking to our obstetrician. He told me that my wife was comfortable and that the baby’s delivery was a few hours away.
Actually, our baby, Lynne, was born shortly after midnight on July 13, 1970. I was thankful that she was a healthy seven-pound baby girl. The obstetrician said that both mother and daughter were doing fine. But, I must also admit that I was equally pleased by the fact that I’d now had the three-day All-Star break to rest up before the regular season resumed that Thursday.
By the way, my daughter grew up to be a beautiful, well-adjusted young women. That, despite the fact that her doting father was — and still is — a maniacal Red Sox fan. Today, she’s a pediatrician, with two children of her own.
Nowadays, every time my wife and I get together with old friends, she likes to kid me by saying that her “water almost broke” before we ever got to the hospital. I reply by saying that she should have been thankful that the game didn’t go into extra innings.
Oh, by the way, did I ever tell you about the day we were married. The Sox were playing the...
Did you ever have a similar experience? Sports? Racing?