As I watch the sunrise ...

Never in a million years did I think this would happen. Never did I think that when I moved to Turkey and started a blog would I write about something so American as college football and baseball. However, in an effort to feel connected to my home here I am staying up through the night to watch live coverage of Cal football and NLCS game 6.

I noticed we had Fox Sports in our cable package, but that was of little interest until the Giants' post season bid. I happened to see that the channel was showing the NLCS games. Unfortunately live games in America mean late night games here, a 4:30 pm start means a 2:30 am start here. So as a dedicated band wagon fan who is missing home I set an alarm and laid on the couch with the Cal game on.

The excitement of that game for me came not from the great score (which was nice) but from a trip down memory lane. In high school I was part of Cal's High School Band day where our band got to go to the stadium and play on the field during half time. Extra special that my sister got to be at the game to watch it too. Well today was High school band day and during half time the high school bands were out there playing away. In both instances the weather turned in the second half of the game and it started raining. Annamarie and I took the opportunity to use mom's credit card to get ourselves new Cal sweatshirts.

After I fell asleep during the second half of the football game, my alarm went off signaling 2:30 am, time to start rooting the Giants on. Is it because I am such a die hard fan? No. Certainly I want them to win it all, I have been rooting them on for as long as I can remember. But this is different. I feel a connection to home tonight, a connection to my family who I know are cheering in Cali. I understand the "nostalgia" that so many people talk about when they discuss the American Pastime. I remember "playing" in the living room while we watched the game. We made 4 bases out of pillows and played with a stuffed ball. I remember the "You better believe it" Grand slam when we felt like the announcers were talking to us because we were shouting "I don't believe it". Brett Butler's (perhaps it was Matt Williams?) 12 foul balls in the '89 playoffs before he hit the homerun, not to mention the countless games we went to to share the experience with the ladies hiding their schnapps behind their little Tv. These are the experiences that up to this point I didn't realize held such importance for me. It only took thousands of miles and a good playoff battle to help me remember.

So as I watch the Giants celebrate and the sunrise I look forward to reminiscing about the time I pulled an all nighter to watch the Giants win the pennant while Erin slept on the couch behind me. Then I did that silly victory dance to celebrate.