My dad still loves the Twins. At 96, with his disabilities, he can't go to Target Field to see the new stadium and watch them in person. Nor can he enjoy a televised game, with his poor eyesight. In fact, he much prefers the radio, listening to the play-by-play just aimed at the people like him who have to rely on their imaginations to see the game, as fed by verbal cues from the announcer.
Last night I came home just as the game was starting, 7:00 PM our time. I excused myself and headed to the computer, telling him to enjoy his game. I don't happen to be a fan. I had other things to do.
A short while later he came over to the den door with his walker, offering to let me watch TV if there was anything on I wanted to watch. Between the summer schedule and the DVR taking care of the few offerings of interest, I declined his offer, as usual. But I noticed how early it still was and asked him what happened to his game? Were they rained out?
No, it was just the end of the first inning. but the score was already 6-0, Twins leading, and it was over as far as he was concerned. I laughed, suggesting that if they'd made six runs, there was lots of time for more to happen, and he might as well enjoy listening. He made his way back and turned his radio on again.
Around 9:00, his usual bedtime these days, he stopped by on the way to bed. I asked about the game. He informed me it was the 7th inning, and the score was now 14-0, Twins. I teased him that there really had been something worth listening to. But it was late, and since the game was now really and truly over as far as he was concerned, he was going to bed.
In the morning, part of our routine is watching/listening to local news and weather together. I knew they'd been forecasting severe weather for today, and figured that for the lead story. Instead, it was the final score of last night's game, 19-1! He'd managed to miss six more runs!