I don't believe I have shared how much I enjoy America's favorite past-time, BASEBALL!
I. LOVE. BASEBALL.
I'm an Oriole Fan.
I am a fan of the American League. (except for the NY Yankees; no offence,NY Readers)
John and I sat in Camden Yards when Cal Ripken, Jr. played his final game at the yard.
Hubster and I sat in Safeco Field in Seattle, when Rafael Palmeiro hit his 3000th hit(yep... a couple weeks later he met trouble named, Steroids!)
I own a BJ Surhoff baseball jersey and wear it to every game I attend (in every city).
My "Bucket List" includes watching the O's play in every AL stadium across the country. (side note, that is THE only item on my Bucket List)
Next month, Hubster and I will watch the O's squash the Phillies in their brand new stadium, sitting in seats a few rows back from home plate. (I may be in trouble on this one, since Hubster is from Philly and his brother is hosting us)
Have I mentioned.... I. Love. Baseball.
OK...back on track. This is not a post solely of my absolute and undying love of baseball, it is also regarding the USO. I learned that Tommy Lasorda visited our Troops on a recent trip with the USO. When I think of Tommy Lasorda, I think Baseball. Now granted, Mr. Lasorda met his fame by way of the National League...I can forgive him, since he did serve our country in the United States Armed Forces in 1946-1947. Please read his story here.
Mr. Lasorda, I thank you for visiting our troops!
As long as I am typing of Baseball and heroes, allow me to share the story of a gentleman by the name of Jack Lohrke. On April 29th, Mr. Lohrke passed away following a stroke. This man appeared to have escaped death at least six times by the age of 22, he became known as Lucky Lohrke.
"As a member of the 35th Infantry Division, he fought in the D-Day invasion of Normandy and the Battle of the Bulge. On four occasions, soldiers on both sides of him were killed in combat yet he emerged unscathed.
On his way home from the war in 1945, he was bumped from a military transport plane in Ohio to make room "for some big-shot," Lohrke told The Times in 1990.
The plane crashed 45 minutes later, killing all on board.
In 1946, he was traveling with his minor-league teammates, the Spokane Indians, when he received orders during a restaurant stop to report immediately to the San Diego Padres, then a minor-league club.
Soon afterward, the bus careened off a cliff in the Cascade Mountains, killing nine of the 15 players aboard."
Mr. Lohrke, I thank you for your service. May God Bless you!