Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Farewell.

(Note: This post was written last week.  I just had to wait for the correct hat to be ordered, shipped, inscribed, and photographed before I could upload.  Enjoy.)

As I write this, the MLB All-Star Game is on my television. The game features
many of today's greatest players on teams managed by Ron Washington of the Texas
Rangers and Tony LaRussa, formerly of the St. Louis Cardinals. As I watch, I
can't help but wonder what Bill James would think of the game.

The name Bill James is fairly influential, not necessarily in sports but
certainly in baseball. He is well known for his obsession with statistics in
baseball and the creation of sabermetrics, a study of the game of baseball which
attempts to "search for objective knowledge about baseball." That Bill James
has been influential in the lives of many baseball executives and players by
challenging traditional paradigms and altering the way players and teams are
evaluated.

Another Bill James was not a baseball visionary. (I personally believe that this
was only because he didn't want to be. I think he had a brilliant mind and could
have done anything, but I may be slightly biased.) He was more important in my
family's world than the more famous Bill James is to baseball.

William "Bill" James Kure was my grandfather. Sadly, Grandpa passed away last
week. He died, perhaps not so strangely, one year and three days after we lost
Grandma. That has served to reinforce to me that we can't take anyone for
granted. "There's always next year" may be an acceptable outlook in sports, but
in life, we are not promised anything after today.

I suppose an argument could be made that I talk or write about sports too much.
It's just how I'm wired. It's what I know and how I can relate to the world
around me.

It was no different with Grandpa. He liked sports as well, and much of our
interaction and conversation was sports related. We spent a lot of our time
together watching baseball, on the golf course, or around a Scrabble board. (I
am pretty sure that Scrabble counts as a sport. It is probably a safe bet that
it has been shown on ESPN2 at one point.)

I'm not sure that Grandpa could quote many big leaguers' BABIP or VORP
sabermetric stats, but we had a blast talking National League strategies, sac
bunts, and why Tony LaRussa would have his pitcher bat eighth rather than ninth
as convention dictates. I loved to hear his stories about heading to the
ballpark when he was young and catching a Major League doubleheader for fifty
cents.

The best lesson that Grandpa TRIED to teach me came on the golf course. Despite
some surprisingly good skill with my irons, I was never any good off the tee or
on the green. Many of my friends and family will be shocked to learn that this
would really frustrate me. Grandpa was consistently reassuring me and settling
me down to try and get the best out of me. To this day, even if I am just
hitting a bucket of balls at the driving range, I can hear Grandpa's words
resonating. "Take it easy. Just stay calm. Don't get mad."

I say he "tried" to teach me because, as I'm sure my wife and twitter followers
will attest, I haven't learned to stay calm in sports. I'm not bragging about
that, but rather confessing. For example, when watching my Rangers lose in the
World Series for the second straight season last year, I was not able to wait
until next year like Grandma would want or to stay calm like Grandpa would.
Ironically, it was Grandpa's Cardinals that would end up beating Texas to win
that World Series.

So what did I get from Grandpa? He loved golf, a game that all three of his kids
and one of his grandkids have taken up. I have not. He loved Green Bay Packers
football, a team to which my dad and brother have also sworn allegiance. I am a
Carolina Panthers fan. Obviously I can't be a Cardinals fan either.

There is one thing that he and I will always share, no matter what. That is our
name. A name doesn't seem like much, especially our family name. It is a mere
four letters long. It may not be a name that fills up the history books. I am
often teased or ridiculed about my poor penmanship, but when giving my
signature, I always try my best to make at least one word clearly legible. Kure.

I am a Kure.

Grandpa certainly wasn't the first Kure, but he is the first generation of Kure
who I can remember. Our first child, a baby girl, will arrive soon. Assuming
that she is ever allowed to date or marry, she will only be a Kure for a
relatively short while. (Unless she follows her mother's lead and marries a
Currie or a Curry.) My brother does have boys. So we are guaranteed at least one
more generation of Kures. These new Kures won't get to meet Grandpa yet.

They will just have to wait until we all meet up and head to the first tee box
up yonder.

Just one last thought. I wonder if, after some lively polka dancing and some
perfectly prepared povitica with Grandma, he gently pointed out that he got to
see the Cards win one more championship. Grandma's Cubbies...well you know.




Scripture: "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no
more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the
former things have passed away.” - Revelation 21:4 (ESV)

Quote: "It is not length of life, but depth of life." - Ralph Waldo Emerson