As we celebrate Father’s Day today, I’d like to take a moment of your time to tell you about my grandpa. James Parker Turner Jr. is his full name. To many, he’s known as something else; Jimmy, Big Jim, Dad, Grandpa or his nickname, Bud.
From the time I was born up until the fall of 2016, my grandparents lived just about an hour away from me. Specifically, they lived in Westminster, Maryland. If you’re a Baltimore sports fan, that may sound familiar. The Ravens held training camp five minutes from their house, and we made a summer tradition of attending.
Another summer tradition was watching our fair share of Orioles games. My grandpa loved his work up until the day he retired. We didn’t get to a large number of games, so the TV broadcast would suffice most days.
My grandpa worked within the United States Postal Service for decades, holding positions from mail carrier to a union representative. You can imagine the connections he made through this.
A memorable connection for me was one of his postal friends who gave us club level tickets to see the Orioles every year. I could look forward to going to that game with him. These were some of my earliest memories at Camden Yards.
Into my formidable years, he held another job, delivering parts for a local company. He truly did love to work until he physically couldn’t anymore. When we would visit and he would come home, usually one of our first topics of the day was how bad the Orioles were doing. This was mid-2000’s, so I’ll let your mind wander back to those times. However, we’d still watch all nine innings.
Whenever we did talk baseball, it usually led to the players he had seen with his own eyes and experiences he had at the ballpark. I’d ask him these things periodically, and the answers usually sat somewhere between ‘DiMaggio and Mantle.’
Another way baseball bonded us was memorabilia. Again, if you are familiar with Westminster, there is a shop called ‘Great Moments’ that we visited what felt like every weekend, and I visit often to this day. We’d either be buying cards or a signed baseball or attending the occasional autograph signing.
One of my favorite memories surrounding my grandpa and baseball was a Brooks Robinson autograph signing at the shop. It was held on a day and time when he was working, so I went with my mom and grandma and got a copy of the Norman Rockwell painting signed and inscribed to 15-year-old me from Brooks Robinson.
When he returned from work, he asked if we had gotten him anything signed. The answer being no, we turned around back to ‘Great Moments’, stood back in line and I met Mr. Oriole again. He had brought a card from home and was simply happy to meet Brooks. This is a day I’ll never forget.
My grandparents also took me to a card show where I met Cal Ripken Jr. for the first time. I remember spending all day running around the vendor booths, eyes lit up wanting to buy everything in sight. That day, I got to see both his joy and patience on display with both me and the lines.
To this point, you may be wondering how this experience differs much from most who have a baseball bond with a grandparent. I mentioned my grandparents moved in 2016. Of all the places in the world, they moved to Sarasota, Florida. That’s right. The spring home of the Baltimore Orioles was going to be in my grandparents’ backyard.
Once they had been there for a few years, my cousin had gifted them spring training season tickets. They attended every day game they possibly could. There were even occasions when I saw them on the rare MASN broadcast of a spring training game.
This was a thrilling time to see the excitement in person. This was now mid-2010’s. I’ll also let your mind wander back there on your own time. My grandparents attended games and ticket holder autograph signings and enjoyed a cold beer on the days that called for it.
You may even still wonder how this all connects to me today. You see, in early 2020, my grandpa was diagnosed with bone cancer. It was late. It was aggressive. I went to visit my grandpa in September 2020. Pandemic and all, I knew it may be my last visit.
At the same time, baseball had figured out how to navigate the pandemic and was playing a truncated 60-game schedule. This was perfect. I would get the chance to watch Orioles baseball with my grandpa.
If you know anything about the 2020 Baltimore Orioles, they weren’t exactly championship material. But, they were still the Orioles. I got to sit there on the couch while he sat in his big white chair. For two weeks, we talked, we ate good food, enjoyed a cold beer and watched all nine innings of Orioles baseball.
On September 27, 2020, we sat down to watch the Orioles play the Toronto Blue Jays. This was the last game of the season, and they were not headed for the postseason. I made sure I was present for every pitch.
On October 6, 2020, just 10 days after that game, my grandpa passed away. One of the first things I thought back to was that day. We got to watch Orioles baseball together one more time.
Since then, I have gone down to visit my grandma and other family members. I’ve attended my fair share of spring training games and have been able to see the team become good.
In those moments, I often think back to the times, baseball and otherwise, I had with my grandpa. If you ever got to spend nine innings with the Bud in your life, consider yourself one of the lucky ones. If you still have a Bud in your life, I’d implore you to spend those nine innings with them as often as you possibly can.
If baseball has bonded you and someone you consider a hero in your life, make sure you tell them. For me, that was the Baltimore Orioles and my grandpa, Bud. Happy Father’s Day, Birdland.
Like Jason’s content? Follow him on Twitter – @jbenowitz1831
THE BALTIMORE BATTERY 
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