As my husband and I sit at home on a Friday night because, of course, the Cardinals are playing, I’m reminded of the old “Yogism” of “it’s not over till it’s over. It’s the top of the 8th, Cards are down 3 to 4 against the Brewers .(But it was good to see Jimmy Edmunds again) As my husband sits dejectly as Nick Stavinoha comes up to the plate. “Who thinks it’s a good idea to have him on the team?” I rolled my eyes and tried to calm him down by saying maybe he would hit a home run. All I heard was a grunt.

And then it happened. Two strikes, last chance. HOME RUN!! Cardinals go up 5 to 4. One would think we just won the lottery. Just another baseball night at home. While my husband was excited about the home run, and suddenly a fan of the man he has just five minutes earlier despised, I was silently enjoying that I was right. Of course the silence didn’t last for long. It helped that they held on to the lead and brought home a winner.

I did learn a valuable lesson while watching the game. The announcers like to throw in personal stories about the players, which helps me remember names. Blake Hawksworth’s, a relief pitcher, grandfather was instrumental in getting the olympics in Canada and was honored in the Opening Ceremonies.

Relationships are a give and take. I can’t really complain we didn’t do anything except watch baseball. I am guilty of dragging him to a quick shopping trip. He can’t really complain about the shopping trip. It was brief, and I make sure he knows I want his opinion on what I buy, which makes it a little more appealing. I in turn made sure we were home in time for the game, cheered when I heard he was (minus cheering for Jim Edmunds who my sister was in love with while he was here) and did enojy being right.