*Warning* I'm nowhere near a professional (or very good) writer. Just writing what I've been feeling all season that seemed to build up tonight. This one is for you, Chipper.
Take a minute to think about someone that's had a major impact in your life. One of your parents? A sibling? That teacher that taught you to take responsibility for your life and that you could make something of yourself. That best friend that picked you up when at rock bottom and pushed you in the right direction. I could go on, but everyone has that one person. I've had each of the above named. I'm lucky.
I remember the summer of 1992 pretty well. I was all of 11 years old, waiting on 12 that would come later in September. My parents had lived in Greenville, South Carolina before I was born, and we would always go back and visit the friends they had made in church there every summer. We would normally go to a Greenville Braves game since our friends lived close to the stadium. Braves baseball had just exploded onto the national scene the previous season with the "Worst to First" run. I'll admit I wasn't that big into baseball at that age because I was a Georgia Bulldogs football girl through and through. I grew up in Athens, my whole family went to Georgia, etc etc etc. So walking into the stadium that day, I knew absolutely nothing about the draft picks. I remember hearing people talking about "Chipper" and I looked at my daddy and asked "Who is Chipper?" And I'll never forget his response "That's that Larry kid from Florida. Supposed to be pretty good!" My first thought, of course, was "Ew, Florida Gators!" The game itself was unremarkable, but I remember seeing him on the field and thinking wow okay, he's kinda cute! Okay, I was 11, leave me alone.
Over the next few seasons, I didn't really keep track of the minors, mostly because AAA was in Richmond at that time. I remember hearing about him coming in during that one game in 93, and then my dad being disappointed when he tore his knee up in 94. Okay, beyond upset. Again, I was more into football. I'm southern, that's what we do.
What would be started that season in 1995 would definitely change my life. I know I'm one of thousands that feel the same way. I know I'm not the only one out there that's lived through all of Chipper's career. I know I'm not the only one that will find it difficult to see Braves baseball as the same without Mr. Jones at the Hot Corner.
September 28 is one week from tomorrow. I'll be 31 by then, not quite as anxious to get to 32 as I was to get to 12 from 11. Lots and lots has happened in my life, but there's been one constant. Chipper Jones playing 3rd (and left for a while) for the Atlanta Braves. I would always get excited around February and March when spring training would start because I knew before long I'd get to see Chipper play every night. Through the middle and high school years; a first failed attempt at college, now a second more successful one; through too many boyfriends to count and a short-lived marriage; through ups and downs with family and friends; through everything life could throw at me.
I just went back and read over what I wrote and got real teary eyed. I wonder if Chipper ever realized he'd make this sort of an impact on someone he's only met a handful of times, and doesn't know from the next person. I'm just another fan that watches almost every night and is lucky to go to maybe a game a year. I'm just one of tens of thousands of faces around the country that tunes in to their TVs to watch Chipper take his majestic swing, snag a ground ball up the line, or charge a weak grounder bare handed to sling across the diamond to get a speedster out at first. To pack the stands at Turner Field with the hopes of seeing a big bubble of gum inflating on the field from one of the best bubble blowers in the major leagues.
I'll go ahead and wrap this up. Chipper, I, personally thank you. I thank you for all these years of highlights, dedication, and passion for the game. I thank you for putting this team on your back more than your fair share of times and carrying them. I know you weren't able to win them all for us, but I could tell that you wanted to each and every time. I appreciate you wanting the big moment, wanting the responsibility. I appreciate you putting the team first. I appreciate you putting the game ahead of everything.
I hope your career was worth all the personal and physical sacrifices you made. I hope living out of suitcases in hotels with bad beds and late night bad meals were worth it. I hope that missing so much of your boys' lives was worth what you've given all of us.
I know 20 years has made a hell of a difference in my life. Thank you, from me, and all of us.
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