by Spartanburg Dawg (Mike Floyd)
Georgia trailed 21-20 and time was running out on what he knew was too good to last forever. Florida had the ball with less than four minutes remaining in the game, and things were getting worse by the second. “Dear God,” he thought to himself, “I think I’m going to be sick.”The game was on television, but he wasn’t watching. Instead, he was in the car at the local soccer fields, suffering with Munson on the weak, AM radio of his 1976 Dodge Colt. His son had a soccer match, as he did every Saturday, and he’d always made a point to attend, even if soccer didn’t make a bit of sense to him. It was just being there that mattered. And it meant a lot to his son, too. Almost 20 years later, he’s proud to joke that he’ll never attend another Little League game. No baseball. No football. No basketball. “Seen enough to last a lifetime,” he says with a smile. But in his heart, he knows he’ll be there when the grandchildren come and the cycle begins again. Most of the time, he really enjoyed himself watching his kid play ball.
But … Continue reading