Sunday evening in September. It’s cold in Saint-Ignace-de-Loyola. The Giants face the greatest collective indifference to the Reds. The Reds gathered several fans.
Leaving Repentigny, the Giants have three more zealous than half the team in the park, including one player’s mother.
The blonde of the other two, St. She’s dressed in cotton wool and blankets to withstand the cold wind from Lawrence.
If the Giants lose, it feels like the end, not just for this 2022 season.
Formed in 2009, the friendly team had little to do but go to the park two nights a week and to the bar the other two nights.
14 years later, kids are also making foot-length headlines on LinkedIn. The manager of this is the special counsel on this business.
Another living on the South Beach and another who never could…because he never could.
The kick is still equally frustrating, but thankfully other priorities have settled over the years, leaving less time for a game at 8:45 in the depths of Ahuntsic.
The giants spoke to each other in the middle of the year: “It could be the end for me. It has been made complicated, and to be honest, I am having less fun than I used to,” our midfielder admits.
He caught the golf bug like the others.
The Giants face elimination and Saint-Ignace put the big rubber on the mound. Good fast balls, biting curve balls.
7th inning 6-1. The giants aren’t dead but it looks bad. There are two strikes and two outs. Nice, a little high speed. Getting the third momentum.
ball gameAs the British say.
We hug each other at the end of every summer. The hug is a little longer, Sunday evening on St-Ign.
Thank you to number 11, which manages absences, rivals, rosters, team bags, payouts. He has three children and he ram two-thirds. The third is too young. No doubt it’s a matter of time.
He has a busy job. Even on the nursery board, can you believe it? He encounters a boy disguised as an accountant with a duffel bag in his left hand. jack strap in his right hand.
He likes baseball, don’t you think?
we give big hug at 71. Our star jug. A real rubber sleeve, I’m telling you. He lives in Saint-Lazare and crosses the entire Island of Montreal twice a week at 6:30 a.m. for a game at Repentigny. It heats up quickly with the arrival of our receiver 10 minutes before the game starts.
He duels, leaves without his beer, lasts 45 minutes, and gets up for work the next morning.
He likes baseball, don’t you think?
You can find these stories in your own teams.
There are matches. Hockey, baseball, football, it’s all the same. They want to say everything and say nothing at the same time.
One fine day you convince yourself that you’re a pretty good player because you’re playing an excellent defense game. The next day you tell yourself how bad you are because you couldn’t hit the target even if your mother’s life depended on it.
Unless your name is Bryce Harper or Mike Trout, this is sport.
The game… and everything else
But beyond the sport, there are siblings. The ones you want to distract with the joke of the day, even if your brother is on your team.
You have a sibling you’ve encouraged since you were a kid, and he’s telling him that that sure shot is important.
It’s the beer you drink after the match to talk about your job, an old festival memento, or the time we lost by default because you were the 9th player and had the wrong Park.
There are nostalgic memories of 38 who scored 12 goals in 4 hits. Natural.
Some will stay in touch. Others will disappear. There will probably be a new softball league somewhere.
One game a week, same day, same time, same park. It will be fine too, but it won’t be the same.
To the brothers of the giants, the oldest as well as the newest. Just passing through.
Thank you for all these memories and the space you have occupied in my writing for 14 years.
Probably a ridiculously important place.
It’s going to be quite the hustle, guys!