I Knew a Guy Just Like That

 The Tribune did a nice story on Thursday about the father of Cubs’ starter Kyle Henricks, who pitched for Dartmouth in college.  John Hendricks would sit off by himself all the way down the left-field line those days his son pitched.  That reminded me of a pitcher at Elmhurst.

Probably the best pitcher in school history; she and Clare were teammates for two years.  In all that time I never saw her father in the stands.  In fact, the first year, I didn’t even know he attended games, but Clare would spot him by the fence when she played the outfield.  Two years and not a word passed between us.  Now, both our daughters are ex-players, and he smiles, shyly, when we meet at the annual alumni game.

John Hendricks attends home games his son pitches, and agonizes through it.  That would be me.  High school or college, I’d sit there in the bleachers and grunt after every pitch Clare swung at and missed or should have swung at but took instead.  Hendricks’ wife tries to calm him down just as my wife tried with me.

That was your pitch, Clare, your pitch.