Petrone: Who do you take to the World Series, your husband or your daughter?

From Susan Petrone at on October 25, 2016:

What do you do when you have two tickets to Game 1 of the World Series and three people in your immediate family? This is not a simple math problem. This is the Cleveland Indians in the World Series. Like true love, this doesn’t happen every day.

Our family consists of me, my husband and our 10-year-old daughter. The night I met my husband, he said two things that won me over. The first was: “You interest me,” which was a whole lot more intriguing than the standard, “You’re so pretty.” The second was: “Do you like baseball? I have season tickets.” Bring on Cupid’s arrows, baby, because yes, I do like baseball.

I was around 9 or 10 when I fell in love with baseball. Most of my childhood summer memories revolve around playing Wiffle ball all day with my brother and some of the neighbors and watching the Indians on the local UHF channel every night. In most families, baseball love and lore is passed down from father to son. For me, it was brother to sister. My father was a music teacher and my mother a writer. We saw lots of live music and theater but not much in-person baseball. My father took us to one game when I was a kid. One. It was the first time I got to see my hero, Andre Thornton, in person. The old Cleveland Municipal Stadium was of Colosseum-like proportions. We were too far away for me to make out Thornton’s face, but I recognized his sizable presence at first base and his swing at the plate.

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Originally published: October 26, 2016. Last Updated: October 26, 2016.