‘You can’t print that in the damn newspaper!”- Teddy Throckmorton

Teddy begat the tickets, then Teddy begat them to his son Davey, who begat them to me for a couple of nights. I begat them and I begat the meeting with Bob Williams. Lo and behold with all this begat(ting) around; a fellow could be begotten.

Begat is a good word. While in the Bible it usually related to ancestry or origin, I just like the word. As far as Bible words go it’s among my favorites along with such jewels as, advent, Antediluvian, leviathan, and messiah. Them are some fancy words that we should all be using on a regular basis.

Why just this past week while in an Antediluvian state, I begat to come up with an idea of how to become a leviathan messiah.

This week’s offering is a tribute to two great baseball fans: Teddy and Bob. Chances are you knew one of them and have no idea who the other one might be. I had Teddy Throckmorton on my mind this past week as I was sitting in what I and many others refer to as the “Teddy seats”. It was due to the graciousness of his son Davey that I had the pleasure to visit Great American Ball Park in Cincinnati in seats Bob Uecker would have died to sit in. I did have to do spellcheck to find out how to correctly spell Uecker. I long for the day when my name will be in spellcheck options if you mistakenly type Lundon Dadd.

I researched my Teddy memory closet about the night I think we became friends. I had known Teddy since I was in Little League. I just kind of looked up to him as a very important person in Jeffersonville. Then one night, something happened that changed our relationship until the day Teddy went to that Great American Park in the sky.

I was covering the mayoral election for the Evening News. Dale Orem won that night. Teddy walked over to me after the press business was done. He said something like, “I know you sometimes use Ed Schuler’s seats but mine are just as good.” I could sense a kind of friendly rivalry between the two local beer barons of that time.

Well, not to hurt Teddy’s feelings (what a noble personal sacrifice on my part) I accepted his offer and have been sitting in them on a regular basis for all these years.

My accomplices this week at Great American Ball Park were local Magistrate Court Judge Bill Dawkins and his 10-year-old son, Jake. Jake’s ambition is to be a major league baseball player. That is kind of the same dream I had at ten. Jake’s dream is still alive. Mine died shortly after the Eisenhower Administration.

My other very special guest was my girlfriend Rhonda who tells me baseball is her favorite sport. You would love her Teddy. Thanks again. She had a wonderful time.

It was on my way to the seats when I was greeted by a kindly gent named Bob. Bob was the usher who showed me to our seats. Bob immediately referred to them as the Jeffersonville seats.

Bob told me he had moved to Cincinnati over half a century ago because he was a Cincinnati Reds fan. His affection and devotion to them is even more telling with his side job. Bob has now ushered at the Reds baseball games for 53 years! He tells me he has ushered over 3,000 baseball games. He started ushering at Crosley Field.

Bob and I talked baseball and life for a few minutes. Bob was a train enthusiast who rode the rails for many years. He told me a story about the shortest non-stop ride he ever took. It was called the Cardinal Line which ran from Louisville to Chicago with stops in Jeffersonville and Indianapolis. Bob fondly remembers and smiles when he informs me that the train ride from Louisville to Jeffersonville was his shortest non-stop train ride ever.

Bob is hanging up the hand towel he uses to wipe off your seats when you sit on the lower level. Over half a century of baseball first-hand knowledge will be leaving Great American Ball Park with him.

I guess someone will be escorting people to the Teddy seats next season. It just won’t be the same for me without Bob. Incidentally, later that evening as I was going to the refreshment stand Bob looked at me and said, “Jeffersonville huh? Shouldn’t you be in a saloon?”

I am willing to bet he had over 3,000 of those one-liners just waiting for the right rube like me to come along.

Lindon Dodd is a freelance writer who can be reached at lindon.dodd@hotmail.com

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