Root, root, root for our home team!

                  Growing up as a Pirates fan, after every home win for the Pirates, the title of this post would start to play out of the loudspeakers. The song is called “Pirates Generation”. For as long as I can remember, this has been the theme song of the Pirates. In 2011, I visited Spring Training with my dad for the Pirates. In 2024, my mom and I decided to visit Spring Training. We went down for a quick weekend getaway without Augusta, (don’t worry, she was taken care of).

                  This opened the door for another first of our grieving journey. It was the first live baseball game I attended without my father. It was the second time, my mom and I had attended a game together, the first being Opening Day 2023 while my dad was sitting in one of the box suites. We got opening day cookies as a consolation prize. Getting to the baseball games this weekend, we got to enjoy the Pirates win against the Red Sox (4-1) and lose against the Yankees (1-0). The weekend was memorable, and, in this journey, we must keep living our lives to the fullest every day and continue to make new memories.

                  On this trip we met up with two of my dad’s good friends while he was alive, Joe and Mark. The last time we went to Spring Training in Bradenton, we stayed at Joe’s house. We had a Chrysler convertible that we drove down from Tampa Bay in the evening the day we arrived and met Joe at a bar, well my dad had a drink, I had a coke because I was 17 at the time, and not legally old enough to drink. Joe is as close to royalty as I will ever encounter. My dad and Joe were coworkers at Arthur Anderson in the beginning of my dad’s accounting career and when the Enron-Anderson Scandal happened, Joe and my dad went their separate ways, but continued to remain close friends. Every year Joe and my dad would go on golf trips together and periodically we would go to Christmas parties hosted by Joe and his wife, Marcie. We had a chance to walk around with Joe and Marcie at the Bradenton Farmer’s Market Street fair and talk about how we were doing and then we went to brunch with Joe, Marcie, Mark, his wife Marsha, my mom, and me. I had these amazingly great waffles with berry compote and whipped cream. We convinced our waiter to ask the kitchen to make my mom, Marcie, and Marsha a “traditional breakfast” because for an unknown reason, the restaurant stopped serving that menu item at 11am while the rest of the breakfast items were available until 3pm. Our waiter Brandon came through.

                  After breakfast on Saturday morning, Joe drove us over to the stadium area where our vehicle was parked. We met my mom’s friend Mary at the baseball game. Mary, who is originally from England and has lived in the states for 37 years, taught us the difference between English and American English words, while I taught Mary baseball. Mary still has remained with her delightful British accent. My mother met Mary on the El Camino hike with Mary’s partner Mike who wasn’t present at the game. Mary and Mike are two brilliant individuals. They didn’t have to come to Pittsburgh for my dad’s viewing and funeral, but they did. They came to the house after the service and hung out before they left for Florida.

                  Words and phrases that differ between Americans and Brits are as follows: Americans: bathroom; Brits: Loo, toilets, bog (if you are in Liverpool); Americans: Elevator; Brits: Lift; Americans: Vacation; Brits: Holiday. In the Queen’s English often they will not use “the” before phrases we use “the” in. One of those instances would be when we say “we are going to visit John in the hospital”, they would just say “John is in hospital”. We say “awesome” or “cool” and they say “brilliant”. A great story of language differences happened when Mary first got to the states. She wanted to have an alarm clock wake up in a hotel and the hotel didn’t have a traditional clock in the room, so she called the front desk and asked the front desk staff to “knock her up” in the morning. Well, “knocking someone up” in American English means something completely different! Mary jokes that she received many of phone calls the next morning. It was nice to spend time with her in Florida. She lives just north of the Bradenton area. She is a delightful woman, and I am so thankful my mom met her on the El Camino, and they have remained close ever since. My mom and Mary could really be twins when looking at them.

                  We went out for dinner at a place King Joe recommended to us. The chef’s name is Joe DiMaggio Jr. I do not believe there is any relation to the baseball legend, as Joe DiMaggio’s only son was Joe DiMaggio Jr. and he died at age 57. It is unlikely that Joe’s two brothers Vince and Tom had a son named Joe Jr. However, we went to Café Barbosso.  A modern Italian establishment with tons of food options. My mom and Mary had authentic Italian red wine. I had an espresso martini (go figure). For dinner, I was reading an article on the top three dishes that Chef Joe DiMaggio Jr. likes to make, which were Baked Rigatoni in Sunday Sauce, Grandmother's Spaghetti and Meatballs in Sunday Sauce, and his layered Egg Plant Parmesan in Sunday Sauce. Sunday Sauce is the special family recipe. I went with Grandma's Spaghetti, Mary with Chicken Parm and a side of angel hair pasta and Sunday Sauce, and my mom with meatballs, a salad, and we also ordered cheesy breadsticks. The meal and ambiance was great. The story behind this establishment was Joe grew up in New York City with his family and had known the local mobster Frank Barbosso. He worked in Frank's kitchen after baseball games that Frank bet on. If his team lost, Joe had to wash dishes in the kitchen, if they won, Frank would show him the ropes of cooking.

Eventually Frank's life caught up to him and he was sent to prison. In honor of Frank Barbosso, a grown Joe DiMaggio Jr. took his culinary lessons to Florida and opened up Barbosso's Italian Cafe. We joked at dinner, the staff would send the dirty white fabric napkins to prison for Frank to wash for a nickel a load and send back to the restaurant.

A cool part about this restaurant is that the restaurant is covered in artwork. All the artwork is for sale and is listed for a price. These prints range from $275 to upwards of $1,500 dollars. The men's and women's bathrooms were no different than the actual restaurant, but had some of the more expensive pieces in the establishment. This Scar Face piece was almost 2,000 dollars to purchase.

Day two of our excursion, we had a quick trip to Pirate City for a tour of the facility, which in short is essentially a college campus for minor league baseball players to work out and learn. The Pirates do a great job setting up future players for success at this facility. We took a quick trip to Cortez Beach for a quick walk on the beach and then we returned to Bradenton to see the Pirates play the Yankees. After the game, we went to the airport and left to return home to the bitter cold of Pittsburgh.

Personal reflection:

The year was 2011. My dad and I flew to Tampa Bay, Florida. We rented a Chrysler Convertible and drove down near Bradenton to stay with King Joe at his home. We went to two baseball games at McKecknie Field together (later renamed LECOM Park at McKecknie Field). We hung out with Joe at his house.

There will always be things that we do in this grief journey together, my mom and I, that will bring back memories of time spent with my dad. We went out with Joe and his wife before the game in 2024 and were reminded of things my dad did with Joe and others ar0und us. Seeing Joe for the first time since Tom's memorial lunch, reminded me of how, Joe is really the last man standing for me in that grouping. I expressed to Joe how much I admired him this past weekend, and made sure to say "although not that I thought of you as third best behind my dad and Tom, I never had much interaction with you like I do today". At my dad's viewing, I remember standing next to Joe right before we said our goodbyes. Joe held my hand as we both looked at my dad and shared tears and memories of him. The feeling that Joe gave me in that moment, was the same feeling my dad gave me when my grandfather passed away. How my dad let me cry to him then and how he comforted me. I felt that same comfort with Joe. I am not much of a crier, but in the couple times I saw Joe, once in the hospital, once at my dad's viewing, and once at Tom's memorial luncheon, he hugged me and we cried together. I will always remember those things.

Going down to Bradenton, with my mom was an impromptu trip. I think she asked what my schedule looked like and then said "do you want to go to some baseball games at Spring Training together?". Before I knew it, we were on a plane to Sarasota-Bradenton together. While on the trip, I managed to write some more of the memoir I am compiling with my Aunt Susan. Together, writer and editor, we are bringing up the importance of the grieving process, the freshness of grief for my mom and I, and how to navigate through the ebbs and flows of grief. I have covered a few moments of grief in this memoir: "People want to help, the importance of grief, introverts versus extroverts in grief, it is okay to not be okay" and other topics. Throughout this process, we have been overwhelmed with the support from all of our friends, family, and relationships my dad had with coworkers and other people that he did work for. We have not fully encapsulated the man my dad was and are trying to keep his memory alive anyway we can. We have asked friends and family to write out their favorite stories or memories of time spent with my dad and send them to us. If this is something you would like to do as a reader of this blog, please do so.

My mom had an amazing encounter while walking the dog on the bike trail this morning (March 26, 2024). She was walking when a male and female cardinal flew by her and the male kissed the female in front of her. She stopped for a moment and explained to me how she felt this physical tingle throughout her body. She shared it was as if my dad was giving her a kiss. It was truly the first time she ever felt him. I have definitely felt him before sitting at the computer or what not, but nothing as deep and meaningful as this. We are going to continue to feel him around us, I definitely believe that.

Some sentiments I have learned: Grief is not easy. Take time to yourself, feel your feelings, and make sure you take care of yourself. Thanks for reading.