I have always loved baseball.  Although I really do not remember, I have been told that my first experience with baseball occurred when I was just three and a half years old.  That’s the day I saw my first game at Fenway Park in Boston, Massachusetts.  We were there because my dad was attending the annual meeting of the Society of Baseball Research (SABR).  The SABR convention that year was being held in Boston.  My dad is a baseball historian who made presentations at the gathering.  By time I was seven years old, I was hooked on the Red Sox Nation too.

My favorite player is David Ortiz, better known as “Big Papi.”  He was the hero of the amazing comeback in the 2004 playoffs against the hated Yankees.  That was the year that the Red Sox overcame the “curse of the Bambino” and won the championship for the first time since 1918.  That was a year before the owner sold Babe Ruth.  I watched the video of that season over and over again.  Papi was at the center of this story.

Before the start of this season, Papi announced his retirement.  At age 40, he was still a very good hitter.  We had a great year leading the American League in runs batted in and slugging averages.  I was very upset because I thought I might never see his play again.  My dad had a great idea – Let’s go see him play one more time.

SABR executives set up the meeting for us.  On Friday night the fans sat through a short rain delay but the wait was worth every minute.  The Red Sox trailed 5-1 entering the bottom of the seventh inning.  After one run scored, Papi came to bat with two men on base.  The entire crowd of over 35,000 stood up to cheer their hero.  It was like a story.  Papi hit a three run homerun leading the Red Sox to a 6-5 win and clinching the American League Eastern Conference Championship.  The heard the cheering in my head long after the game was over.

Next came a great surprise.  We were escorted to the Red Sox locker room and I stood with the players.  There in front of me was a huge man, 6’3” tall and weighing about 250 pounds.  He had a huge grin on his face.  In a mix of English and Spanish we shook hands and he signed a baseball for me.  I sometimes have a hard time believing it was real.  That baseball will be with me forever.