Growing up in the beautiful town of Abilene, Texas in the center of Texas was great. The city is wonderful, the people are always nice, and there is always something to do. I couldn't have asked for a better place to grow up in. I do, however, wish I could say the same for my childhood.
As a youngster, for the first few years of my life, I had a great life. My mother and father raised me in a wonderful Christian household. I was brought to church with them every week, never missing a day. My parents were both raised in the church so naturally they were going to do the same with me. Even at the age of three I remember playing in the nursery with other children. I remember going to Vacation Bible School and learning about stories in the Bible (mainly David and Goliath) even as a young child.
When I was a five year old, my mother got a new job that demanded she work every Sunday. As a result, my father and I would stay home on Sundays, rather than going to services as we used to. Over the next few years, my mother and father grew distant from each other, and ended up separating when i was eight years old.
When I'd ask my mother about them, she'd always promise me that everything was fine between the two of them. She'd even go so far as bringing my father to the house so that it'd appear they were still together (even though they'd always either argue or not speak to each other when he was here).
As they say, every cloud has a silver lining and there was one in my case. I would constantly lock myself in my room and listen to the radio when I was younger, and one day I happened upon a baseball game on the radio. I listened intently as I learned more about the game.
Every day, I'd listen to the Rangers on the radio during baseball season. I came to understand what a strikeout was, what a home run was, and what everything else meant. I'd even hear my father discussing the team with his friends, and Nolan Ryan became my favorite player on the team (he was my father's favorite too).
Every time my dad came by, I would always close my door, blast the radio, and hope to hear the Rangers on it. My mother came to realize my obsession with the team and she bought me a hat that I would wear every single day. This was during the 1983 season and the team wasn't great, but it was so much fun to hear them win.
The Texas Rangers were truly my escape during my childhood. They'd take me away from all of my pains, and give me an outlet that made me happy. To this day, I love the team and experience the same joy with each win that I did back then.
As a youngster, for the first few years of my life, I had a great life. My mother and father raised me in a wonderful Christian household. I was brought to church with them every week, never missing a day. My parents were both raised in the church so naturally they were going to do the same with me. Even at the age of three I remember playing in the nursery with other children. I remember going to Vacation Bible School and learning about stories in the Bible (mainly David and Goliath) even as a young child.
When I was a five year old, my mother got a new job that demanded she work every Sunday. As a result, my father and I would stay home on Sundays, rather than going to services as we used to. Over the next few years, my mother and father grew distant from each other, and ended up separating when i was eight years old.
When I'd ask my mother about them, she'd always promise me that everything was fine between the two of them. She'd even go so far as bringing my father to the house so that it'd appear they were still together (even though they'd always either argue or not speak to each other when he was here).
As they say, every cloud has a silver lining and there was one in my case. I would constantly lock myself in my room and listen to the radio when I was younger, and one day I happened upon a baseball game on the radio. I listened intently as I learned more about the game.
Every day, I'd listen to the Rangers on the radio during baseball season. I came to understand what a strikeout was, what a home run was, and what everything else meant. I'd even hear my father discussing the team with his friends, and Nolan Ryan became my favorite player on the team (he was my father's favorite too).
Every time my dad came by, I would always close my door, blast the radio, and hope to hear the Rangers on it. My mother came to realize my obsession with the team and she bought me a hat that I would wear every single day. This was during the 1983 season and the team wasn't great, but it was so much fun to hear them win.
The Texas Rangers were truly my escape during my childhood. They'd take me away from all of my pains, and give me an outlet that made me happy. To this day, I love the team and experience the same joy with each win that I did back then.
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