This guest-post is part of the 2016 Baseball Continuum Blogathon For Charity, benefiting the Roswell Park Alliance Foundation. The Roswell Park Alliance Foundation is the charitable arm of Roswell Park Cancer Institute and funds raised will be “put to immediate use to increase the pace from research trials into improved clinical care, to ensure state-of-the-art facilities, and to help improve the quality of life for patients and their families.” Please donate through the Blogathon’s GoFundMe page. Also, please note that the opinions and statements of the writer are not necessarily those of the Baseball Continuum or it’s webmaster.
Karen and I met on New Year’s Eve, December 31, 1985. By May, we were engaged. When Karen started looking for a place to get married near her hometown of Niskayuna, New York, I had one request.
“I just don’t want to get married during the World Series.”
It seemed a simple enough request to me. Sure, I wasn’t destined to play in the World Series, but I always watched it and it was very important to me. What I didn’t understand, the flaw in my plan, was that Karen had no idea when the World Series occurred. We were to be married the same day as Game 2 of what would turn out to be the Red Sox – Mets series.
“Wait,” she said with surprise. “Isn’t it ‘The Boys of September?’” What can you do?
The day before the wedding, my in-laws had a big spread, not a rehearsal dinner per se, but a nice gathering at their house. Everyone huddled around the TV to watch the opener, Bruce Hurst v. Ron Darling at Shea.
“Why are they all watching TV?” my mother-in-law wondered, in disbelief.
They were doing what was the only normal thing to do, watch the World Series. I left before the game was over, heading back to my hotel with my parents. My mother was ticked off at my in-laws because they didn’t have enough food. Why? My mother told them no one would come from New York City to upstate the night before the wedding. My mother-in-law ordered an appropriate amount of food and then, of course, a horde of New Yorkers came. A nice trap was set by my mother. What did I care? I just wanted to get back to watch the rest of the game, which Boston won 1-0 on a Tim Teufel error.
The next day, October 19, was beautiful and sunny, the last pretty day before fall gave way to winter. We had an outdoor wedding, well-attended, and well-remembered. As the afternoon went on, some guests had to leave. They had tickets to Game 2. I couldn’t blame them for the leaving early.
Karen and I didn’t leave the wedding together; we didn’t give it any thought. A worker at the hall said to Karen, “I’ve never seen the bride and groom leave separately.” It was no big deal and I had to get my stuff from the hotel. Our honeymoon wasn’t until December. We reconvened at her parents’ house and went to the Desmond Americana Hotel in Albany for the night.
At the hotel, in a nice two level room, we opened all our gifts on the first floor and ordered lots of appetizers from room service. Then, like all newlywed couples, we went upstairs to bed.
I watched Game 2, a Red Sox blow out.
Our anniversary has always revolved around the World Series, though now, with the extra layer of playoffs, the Series is usually the week later. We watch all the post-season games together, I tell Karen about the players, we snack, we drink and we have a blast. Not even the “Boys of September” have a better time.
Jeff Katz, author, Split Season 1981: Fernandomania, The Bronx Zoo and The Strike That Saved Baseball (Thomas Dunne Books) is also the Mayor of Cooperstown. You can find him at http://Jeff-Katz.com and @splitseason1981.
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This guest-post has been part of the 2016 Baseball Continuum Blogathon For Charity, benefiting the Roswell Park Alliance Foundation. The Roswell Park Alliance Foundation is the charitable arm of Roswell Park Cancer Institute and funds raised will be “put to immediate use to increase the pace from research trials into improved clinical care, to ensure state-of-the-art facilities, and to help improve the quality of life for patients and their families.” Please donate through the Blogathon’s GoFundMe page. Also, please note that the opinions and statements of the writer were not necessarily those of the Baseball Continuum or it’s webmaster.
