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Reality Strikes Grandpa Fox

After spending the last four days in Cohoes, New York, with my son Erik, his pregnant wife Sarah and Erik's mom Gail, I couldn't help but hear some baby talk as we enjoyed the mini-vacation.

Some might recall that I recently had to face the fact that sometime around February 2008 I will become a grandfather. Some might recall the apprehensions I revealed in my On the Sly blog titled "A Grand Father's Day Call." After all, what with me feeling so young these days I'm not so sure I'm ready to be an official grandfather.

My Grandpa Gagnon, who we called "Poppa," was bald and drank Manischewitz wine. My Grandma Gagnon, who we called "Miner," accidentally put sugar instead of salt on my popcorn. My Grandpa Jock weighed over 300 pounds and greeted every old man he saw with a hearty, "Hello, young feller!" And my Grandma Jock wore an apron which covered her from neck to ankles and served up roast beef and sliders in her tasty gravy.

But four days being around a newly-designated pregnant lady had its effect on me. By the fourth day on our family trip to Cooperstown and the Baseball Hall of Fame, I have to admit that I was starting to envision myself tossing an underhanded spongeball pitch to little Abner.

Hey, we were in the parking lot of Doubleday Field when that vision came to me, so Abner popped into my head. I'm sure, if it's a boy, they'll come up with some tough-sounding name like Brick or Rocco. And, if it's a girl, I'm sure they'll opt for a sweet name and not choose Abnerella. Hey, I was at Doubleday Field when I imagined all this!

And I imagined Erik standing in the Hall of Fame gallery near the plaque of Gary Carter, and telling his child the story of how when Erik was three years old he stole a baseball from Carter and made the front page of the Press-Republican.

Anyway, by the time we were shopping at the various crowded stores on Main Street in Cooperstown, I found myself looking for baseball-themed maternity clothes for Sarah and cute little baseball items for little Abner. Abner Gagnon -- kind of has a ring to it!

I even found a little stuffed fox that came with a little book called "The Red Fox" from the "Children Learn About Animals" series. And I saw a tee-shirt with the following words: "My Son is a Mets' Fan." Yes, indeed, uncharacteristically, I wasn't looking for Brooklyn Dodgers memorabilia. Instead, I was letting baby stuff catch my eye.

Is this how that grandfathering thing sneaks up on you? I read all the comments from On the Sly blogoteers about how great being a grandparent is. And I shrugged or grinned. But now, I can picture Grandpa Foxy singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" to put his little grandchild to sleep. Or driving all the way to Cohoes just because this might be the day the baby arrives.

Yikes, what am I going to do?

Comments

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!! You're going to make a wonderful grandpa!!!! And if you're anything like my dad is with my 2 little ones, that is going to be one spoiled baby!! lol

Hey Foxy...trust me, it has only just begun! In my younger days when I traveled with the Air Force on temporary duties I would hit all sorts of spots that I won't mention or my wonderfuly sister will hold it against me. :) However, now I know where all the Toys R Us are...and when I hit the sport shows I go for the aisles that have those great little outfits that only a grandpa can pick out. You know they just don't make enough Atlanta Braves outfits. Which reminds me..after reading miss d's post..Tristan's dad and grandpa can argue all they want about him being a Mets or Yankees fan....because great Uncle Dan will guide him down the wonderful world of the Atlanta Braves!!!! Can't wait to see the little guy...two more weeks!!! Will be great to see Plattsburgh again!

Well isn't this just perfect timing! Last night I had the uncomparable pleasure of watching my new grandson, Tristan Kenneth, enter this world with a howl (oh, maybe that was his mother!) - anyway - in keeping with the theme, his father and grandfather were, a short time later, in the hallway "debating" his future - Yankees or Mets, Cowboys or Bills, and so on and so on! Also, you will definitely find yourself in entirely new shopping aisles - enjoy, revel and behold that which truly does keep us young, granddaughter or grandson, it just does not matter, your life is about to change in wonderful ways you cannot even imagine - You will be a great Poppa - as long as you never say the word "Abnerella" again! Your friend, miss d

Foxy,
I am glad you enjoyed your family trip to Cooperstown. I hope all the fantasizing about being a Grandpa didn’t interfere with your enjoyment of the “Great Hall” or any of the beauty of Cooperstown!

I apologize for not getting to the Valleycats game on Saturday. Our peewee baseball team drew the late game in the opening round of the Greenwich tournament and had a game at 6 that evening. We lost, but our kids, and us coaches, had a great time. I was so looking forward to making a cameo appearance in “Fox on the Run”.

And in the infamous words of A-Rod’s wife, “#&@% the Yankees!” GO TIGERS!!!

(Foxy's note: We will be back at a Valleycats game on Aug 25, near the end of the season. No "Fox on the Run," though -- just a good ol' good time.)

FOXY: Take it from someone who has been there, YOU'RE HOOKED, GRANDPA TO BE!!

You being a big Dodger fan with a son who likes the Mets. In my case it was a daughter who married a RED SOX FAN (I did have him sign a pre-nup saying my daughter will remain a YANKEE FAN). The end product however, my grandson is a die-hard RED SOX fan. Now as the grand-parent you can cheer for your team and root against his team and have lots of fun along the way and you bond with the boy or girl. You are going to enjoy this ride believe. If you don't believe me check with your former Fox-Hillers who are now grand-parents and they will tell you to sit back and enjoy.

(Foxy's note: Sounds like fun, Mike! I'm starting to become a believer!)

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on July 2, 2007 5:25 PM.

The previous post in this blog was Sympathy for Joe Torre.

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