Decisions, decisions.

There are few things as sacred in our household as baseball season. The NFL is a close second and Mike starts doing his “Are you ready for some football?” dance when August hits and preseason games start popping up. But our love for all things baseball really takes the cake.

The shared passion stems from our childhoods – while Mike was rooting on his Cubbies at Wrigley Field, I was an official member of the Blue Crew from the minute I was born (in fact, I wish I could find the photo of me circa 1983 rocking my Blue Crew koala t-shirt to post here but no luck). Some of our fondest childhood memories took place in a baseball stadium. Baseball represents everything good about our families and everything fun about summertime.

At nine-years-old, I watched Kirk Gibson hit the game winning home run in Game 1 of the World Series from the 3rd baseline and I knew right then and there that I was a Dodger fan for life. And so, since we both feel a very strong allegiance to our particular teams, we had a discussion about how we were going to raise our kids. Yes, while some couples talk about whether or not their kids should go to church (which ours will) or if they should go to private or public school, our big issue is whether or not they will cheer for the Dodgers or the Cubs.

So, what did we decide?

They will be Dodger fans. I know, how could Mike lose this battle…it’s the Cubs after all? But you see, my argument was bulletproof: first of all, we live in LA. If we’re going to spend summers at Dodger Stadium, doesn’t it make sense that the Dodgers become their team? Second of all, it would make my dad the happiest man on the face of the earth if he could pass his obsession with Dodger baseball down to his grandchildren. He used to help me fill out my scorecard from the stands during games and I can’t imagine a sweeter experience than watching him pass along that tradition to my kids. And finally, I watch as the Cubbies break my husband’s heart again and again every October so I asked him, “Why would you want to put your kids through that same unnecessary pain?” I’m fairly certain that observation alone clinched the deal.

So, before you get all weepy because Mike lost this battle keep in mind he walked away with a very significant victory of his own. Our kids will also grow up cheering on the Chicago Bears (and not the Dallas Cowboys) in what will hopefully be, another Super Bowl one day soon. They will know the legend that was Walter Payton, and they will wear orange and blue on Sundays while dance to the Super Bowl Shuffle.

In my opinion, this is the perfect example of compromise at work in our marriage. We both experienced a little pain but also walked away with a sense of conquest and accomplishment. Our individual allegiances will remain what they are but we have agreed not to “smack-talk” the other’s team (unless they’re playing each other and then all bets are off!). And as for college football…that’s just a crapshoot since both of our teams (Cal and FSU) have been pretty miserable the past few years. Besides, with any luck, our kids will have their own college teams to cheer on someday!

One thought on “Decisions, decisions.

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