So here’s what we did this past weekend.
That’s Caroline playing soccer in case you can’t tell from that high quality photo.
She had a soccer tournament in Austin on Saturday and Sunday that – wait for it – meant we had to leave our house at 6 a.m. on Saturday morning. As we made the drive to Austin, I remarked that the sunrise was really pretty and P informed me it does that every morning. And I am so happy for the people who are up to see it each day, but I do not plan to be one of them on a regular basis. Give me one sunrise about every six months and I’m good.
She played two games on Saturday but they were spread out enough that we didn’t get home until almost twelve hours later. It didn’t help that P wanted to stop at Cabela’s on the way home. He ended up getting a few hunting necessities while I milled around like a stranger in a strange land. On the upside, I bought a fresh squeezed lemonade and some kettle corn at a stand set up in front of the store. I’ve noticed that they have the same set up at Bass Pro Shops so I can only assume the hunting and fishing crowd are also big consumers of kettle corn and lemonade to which I say well done. I may not understand all the various gadgets and scents and camouflage paraphernalia, but I understand a bag of kettle corn.
Then Sunday morning, P stayed home to speak at Community Worship while Caroline and I made the drive back to Austin for more soccer. And now soccer season is over for a bit and I’m a little bit glad for the break. This fall has been one of the busiest I can remember and it’s nice to think we’re just two weeks away from Christmas break and the chance to take a deep breath.
On a completely different note, I was sad to learn yesterday that Texas A&M field manager, Leo Goertz, passed away suddenly. I first met Leo back in my days as a Diamond Darling. He was part big brother/part counselor/part dad to all of us. Part of our job as Diamond Darlings was to groom the field in between games which included driving a tractor to make the infield smooth and it takes a special man to let a bunch of college girls loose with a tractor on a pristine baseball field.
Gulley, Jen and I ended up renting a duplex right behind his house one year and we’d call him to come over to do everything from killing a bug to fixing our air-conditioning. This was way beyond his job description but he’d do it with a smile on his face and some words of wisdom before he left. I called him the poet laureate of Olsen Field because he had a million phrases and sayings that he was always ready to share. And I’ll never forget one summer when I was going through an especially hard time and he let me meet him at Kyle Field to paint the “Texas A&M” in the end zone. It was such a small thing but it meant so much to me that he trusted me to paint those letters on his “baby”. He was one of the best in the business and even all these years later Gulley and I will comment on what a great job Leo has done with the field when it’s looking especially spectacular, but like so many of the greats he did it quietly and faithfully, always content to be behind the scenes.
Over the years we’d try to go visit him whenever we made it back to Aggie baseball games and our kids knew that Leo always had candy (and sometimes a couple of extra baseballs) waiting in his office and they’d beg to go see him in his hideout under the first base side. He was a part of what makes Texas A&M great and he’ll be missed.
(Jen, me, Leo, Gulley and Tiff circa 1991)