Baseball

Those of you who know me know that I am a passionate individual. My biggest passions are baseball and music. Both have the ability to take you away from your reality even if it is only for a little while. I believe there is truth, romance, and honesty in both. Playing baseball has left my life. Music still remains but I will spend the rest of this edition talking about my first love...Baseball.

I was born into a family that loved baseball. My grandfather played in college and coached my fathers little league team. My dad also played in college. My dad married my mother who came from a family which hated sports. Marrying my dad, she really had no choice but to learn to love baseball. Baseball was the centerpiece of the Nelson side of the family. There is always a ball and a glove around at every family function. 

When I was born, one of the first pictures of me included a baseball in my hand. My love for baseball grew more and more as the years passed by. I remember going to my dads' "old man" games as a child. I always wanted to be around the game. I sat in the dug out. I did the bat boy stuff. I fondly remember my dads' team winning a tournament and getting to witness the popping of champagne. I also remember my dad taking a ground ball off of his face. His eye being swollen and bloody, but he still made the play. Its almost as if you cant be a Nelson on the baseball field until you have had a ground ball bust your face up in some way.

My dad is a life long Red Sox fan. Talking to him today, he will still talk about the time he met Carl Yastrzemski and got his autograph as a child. I really had no choice in the matter in being a Red Sox fan. I tried to fight it along the way. My favorite team early in my life was the Oakland A's. I loved the bash brothers. As I grew older I tried to rebel against being a Red Sox fan. I cheered for the A's, and when my family moved to Cincinnati I cheered for the Reds. I didn't want to like the same team as my dad. Looking back, I kind of liked the rivalry. It wasn't until middle school, where I really started embracing the history, torment, and tradition of the Boston Red Sox. I have been a fan ever since. I still keep the Redlegs close to my heart. Living in the Cincinnati area for so long will do that to you. 

I was very fortunate at a young age to be able to travel to watch baseball games. One of my favorite memories as a child came when my dad and I took a trip from Cincinnati. We watched the Reds play. The next day we drove up to Cleveland to catch an Indians game. That Indians team was so much fun to watch. Albert Belle, Kenny Lofton, and Carlos Baerga were my favorite players on the team. They were playing the Seattle Mariners. I don't recall the score of that game but I do remember how happy I was to be able to spend some time with the old man. After the game my dad took me to the players parking lot. We watched the Mariners board the team bus. Many signed autographs and took pictures with the fans. It was a great experience.

The next day we drove up to Detroit to catch a Tigers game. I remember they played the Kansas City Royals. I was pumped because David Cone was scheduled to pitch and I packed my conehead. The Tigers and the Royals were so bad that season that we were able to get really good seats rows behind the Royals dugout. The Royals players thought my conehead was hilarious. Jose Lind came out of the dugout and gave me his baseball bat. I still remember the smell and the stickiness of fresh pine tar on a baseball bat. To this day it is one of my favorite smells. Jose then went into the dugout and talked David Cone into coming out and autographing my conehead. I still have that in my parents house with all my memorabilia. This game was also special to me because I had my first drink of beer. I remember how terrible I thought it was and promised to never drink beer again. Young McCoy would be so disappointed in Old McCoy's love of beer.

After the game in Detroit we headed up to Niagara Falls. I didn't appreciate the glory of what I was seeing at the time. I didn't want to be there. I wanted to watch more baseball. I could have cared less about Niagara Falls. My dad knew this, but I think he also knew that it would be a good thing for me to see. I haven't been back to the Falls since, but I'd love to go back. 

We ended the trip with the highlight. We left Niagara Falls and headed to Cooperstown. The mecca of baseball. Every baseball fan should make a trip or two to Cooperstown in their lifetime. I could have spent days in there. Even as a kid, I was in awe of everything the Hall of Fame included. I was fortunate enough to have my dad there with me. He explained the importance of everything to me. He showed me all of his favorite players growing up. We spent two great days in Cooperstown. before making the drive back to Cincinnati. I didn't want to leave. I hope and pray one day to take my future son to Cooperstown and relive that experience with him.

I would love to take this time to talk about all of my baseball accomplishments. I was a pretty good player. I did not start blogging to toot my own horn. Those that know anything about my past, know about my playing career. My favorite memories of life have happened on a baseball field. I will say that I played in college. I had the chance to play over seas, and won a few awards. All of that means little to me compared to the memories I have from being at a baseball field with my dad. As a grown man, my favorite part of going home is knowing that my dad, my brother, and I will find the time to go out in the yard and play catch.