Opening Day in baseball brings back the best, if not fabricated, memories of dad

There is nothing quite like opening day in Major League Baseball.

The smell of the the fresh cut grass on the field, the sun on your face and knowing the cold of winter was now in the review mirror. Baseball means summer is near and freedom is in sight!

Certain memories are so vivid you can remeber the smells, the sounds and the feelings of days gone by. And then there are those that are just a little too good to be true.

Take a listen to Glenn share the bonding moment he and his father experienced as they willed the Red Sox to victory in the 1975 World Series and see which category this one falls into.

GLENN: I was 11 years old. It was the summer of 1975. I contend it was the summer that my dad and I won game six of the World Series.

And I remember it like it was yesterday. You know those kind of memories that you can -- you can smell the memory. You can -- you can smell the house. You can smell the grass. Everything is just so vivid, the way grass smells right after it's been cut in the summer. You can see the way the sun would shine. And it would come through the living room window and bounce off the hardwood floor every morning.

You slept with your window open. And you could feel the cool breeze in the morning.

Do you remember what it felt like every day, running and playing, just being a kid? Summertime meant something.

Summertime.

We don't crave the summer just for the sun. We crave it because it was -- it was the most important time in our life. I don't know if it's like this for kids anymore.

But it was in the summer that you became who you are. You became your own person. You developed a life of your own.

It's where you found what you love. And later, who you loved. When I was 11 years old, I found what I loved.

Radio. Radio in a bizarre way. And my love of baseball through the radio. But it -- it was all tangled up in summer. And one summer, it just consumed me. My passion.

Every single day, that summer, 9 o'clock, I would meet with Jim and Freddie and my best friend Mike, along with seven or eight other interchangeable stragglers. And we would make about a two-mile hike into a run downfield. It was right off of Main Street, behind the hardware store. And none of us had a $200 aluminum bat. Or a case of brand-new baseballs. And nobody was watching us.

We had an old wooden bat that had been given to Freddie by his older brother. He had cracked it at practice. So we took some tape, and we bound that bat up, held together by the tape. The grip was so worn, that you were sure to go home with a splinter or two every single day. The ball, we had found in the woods. I grew up in the Pacific northwest. So it was a little waterlogged. It had been there for a few months. So it was more of a shot put than a baseball.

But that didn't stop us. Every day, all day, we would be there. And we wouldn't stop for anything, except for the trek over to the store on the corner, where we would get a Coke or some bazooka bubble gum.

And we would all pretend we were in the major leagues. We would stand there for hours with a stick in your hand. Swinging away, against imagery pitchers. Practice rounding the bases. Winning the game, the last game of the World Series.

Those were remarkable summer days. But then, the real excitement came when I came home. Because we would rush through dinner. And we would clean our rooms so we could sit in front of the TV. And our mom would say, don't sit so close, you're going to get eye cancer.

But we were able to watch the first few innings of the game. But only the first few innings because mom and dad were both sticklers for bedtime, even during the summer. We were like, there's no homework. There's no school.

We begged. We complained. We'd scream. We'd argue. We'd do -- you know, I'm just down for a drink of water. We did all the tricks.

Never got me past the fourth inning. Sometime in the fourth inning, my dad would drag me up to bed. And that would be the end of my baseball adventure for another day.

Or so he thought. It was early that summer, that I discovered what I liked to call the vent.

I think it's where I get my love for radio. We had this old house. And there was this old big old black iron vent at the top of the stairs. And it served as a tunnel, straight to the ballpark. We'd get tucked in. I would wait for mom to go to bed. And then I would slowly open the door. And my head would peek out. And I would creep towards the hallway. I had carefully placed my feet in a pattern that I had diligently created. It took me a long time to find out exactly which boards creaked and which ones didn't.

Then I would slowly get on my hands and knees, and I would place my face, my ear to that cold vent. I can still feel the cold steel up against my face and the sound of the TV. I couldn't see any pictures. I had to make them in my mind.

As that sound would make its way up the metal tube and spill out into a picture painted by words. A picture that was so vivid in my imagination, and I felt like I had front row seats right behind home plate. I had a hot dog in my hand. A soda. A box of crackerjacks. I could smell the grass.

I remember listening to the World Series that year. It was between the Reds and the Red Sox. And while the broadcasters were artists with their words, it was a number that stuck out of my head most of all. And that number was 1918.

1918. The Red Sox hadn't won the World Series since 1918. But this year, they had to win, because I wanted them to, my dad wanted them to. I sat in my hallway night after night. My knees, I swore were bruising. My back would ache.

Just waiting for the moment that the Red Sox would do the impossible and defeat the big red machine.

Five nights of heart-pounding suspense. Red Sox were down three games to two. By this time now, the summer had ended. School had returned. My bedtime was strictly enforced.

It was October 21st, I remember the date. October 21st, 1975. I remember everything.

It was right after the second inning, that I had to go upstairs kicking and screaming. I just need another drink of water. I can still remember my Dad saying to me, don't worry. I'll tell you about it in the morning.

After I gave up and as I was kind of stomping up the stairs, I remember thinking, you're not going to have to tell me. I know I don't have to wait until tomorrow because I have the vent.

And as I hit the top of the stairs, I quickly washed up and climbed into my bed and waited to hear my mom pass by my door, check on it, and see if I was sleeping. I was good at pretending. I waited in my bed for five long World Series minutes. Five minutes.

I heard her come up the stairs. I heard her close her door. Her night was over. And mine had just begun.

I remember getting up, carefully, oh, so carefully. Stepping out of my room. Creeping across the floor, putting my feet in exactly the right spots. Make sure there wasn't a sound or a creek from the floorboard. And I slowly, carefully, made my way to the vent. Down on my hands and knees. My face pressed up against the cold steel.

That's when everything changed. I wasn't there for very long when I heard a sound. I heard the sound. It was a unique sound. There was nothing else in the house that sounded like this, especially if you're listening for this sound. If this sound is trouble, when you hear this sound, you don't miss it. It was the sound that only my father could make when he pulled the squeaky lever on his tattered, you know, vinyl recliner.

I instantly broke into a cold sweat. He's getting out of his chair. Now, some things in life are certain. There's death. There's taxes. And there's dad, sitting in his favorite chair watching America's pastime.

Okay. Okay. Okay. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. He's just going to the fridge. He's getting another beer. Don't panic. He's going to go to the bathroom. I'm sure that's what it is. He's not going upstairs. I haven't made a sound.

But I could hear the squeak of the floors downstairs. And they were not headed towards the kitchen or the bathroom. They were headed towards the stairs.

I sat there, paralyzed, seemingly unable to move. I don't know what happened to me. I could not move.

I don't know when it dawned on me that it was too late, there's no way I could get out of here and go back to bed. Because I would have to run across the floor. I would give myself away. This is the first moment, as a kid -- I mean, when you're a little kid, maybe. But this was -- I was -- I was becoming an adult. And yet, this was the first moment that I -- I really willed myself to be invisible.

I am invisible. He will not see me.

Yeah, that didn't work. Maybe it occurred to me when I -- I heard the creek of the first stair, that he wasn't walking up the stairs, but he was sneaking up the stairs. My dad seemed to have the same kinds of abilities that I was developing. We had something in common. I heard the creek of the first stair and then the second and then the third. And my mind began to scramble for an excuse. I had to go to the bathroom, and I just fell. I dropped something down the vent, Dad.

I didn't have a good excuse.

He was almost at the top of the stairs, and I could see the top of my dad's bald head. I just sat there like a deer in headlights. My only defense -- I was just -- I was just hoping that I wasn't going to get run over in this accident like that deer. I stared at my father. He stopped at the top of the stairs, his back still not -- his back still facing me. He still hadn't seen me. He paused. I was frozen.

And then he turned, but the way he turned, he turned and looked straight, directly at me. He knew I was there with the vent.

I wondered if he had known I had been there every night before. I sat there, and I waited a very loud and unbearable punishment. And my dad looked at me and I looked up at me, guilty eyes begging for lien answer, and I just said, hi.

He looked at me and he smiled and he shook his head and he said, come downstairs.

I thought I was going to get the punishment of my life. And then he said, and don't wake your mother.

The two of us both tiptoed back down the stairs. And we sat down trying to contain our excitement, as the game went into extra innings. I had never seen a smile on my dad's face like this. I knew if just the two of us had rooted hard enough, that the Red Sox would win. They couldn't lose because my dad and I were now in it together. It was the bottom of the 12th inning. Up steps Carlton Fisk, Red Sox catcher, first pitch up, and in. Ball one.

Palms were sweating in anticipation. Pat Darcy, Cincinnati pitcher began his windup. And my dad said, this is it. This is it.

He was right. Darcy released a sinker down and in, first just belted it down the line. My dad stood up and yelled, stay fair! Stay fair! It was as if any thought of my mom sleeping was completely gone and disappeared with the crack of the bat. Stay fair! He kept screaming.

Even Fisk was standing on the plate with both hands waving, trying to will the ball fair. My dad and I were both now standing, screaming, stay fair!

Some people would say that my dad and I had nothing to do with the World Series that year. Some would say that a father and a son can't make a ball stay fair.

But I know in my heart, I know that's not true. The ball banged off the metal mesh of the poll, and it was fair. It was a home run. It won the game.

My dad and I were just screaming. We were jumping so much. I think we woke up entire neighborhood in the process. Well, everybody except my mother.

But we didn't care. And once everything calmed down, it was just me and my dad standing there, staring at the TV, and then at each other. Our shoulders were scared back. Fisk had hit the ball. But we were the ones that kept it fair.

The Red Sox would go on to lose game seven, but it didn't matter. I had spent a night with my dad that neither of us would ever forget.

My dad and I won game six of the World Series. And we won it together.

As I look back on that night in October, I can't help, but think that the only way that this could have been better, would be if -- if just one word of this story had actually been true.

Dan Bongino, host of The Dan Bongino Show, is an investor in Parler — the social media platform that actually believes in free speech. Parler was attacked by Big Tech — namely Amazon, Apple, and Google — earlier this week, but Bongino says the company isn't giving up without a fight. In fact, he says, he's willing to go bankrupt over this one.

Dan joined Glenn Beck on the radio program to detail what he calls a "smear" campaign behind the scenes, and how he believes we can move forward from Big Tech's control.

"You have no idea how bad this was behind the scenes," Dan told Glenn. "I know you're probably thinking ... well, how much worse can the attack on Parler have gotten than three trillion-dollar companies — Amazon, Apple, and Google — all seemingly coordinated to remove your business from the face of the Earth? Well, behind the scenes, it's even worse. I mean, there are smear campaigns, pressure campaigns ... lawyers, bankers, everyone, to get this company ... wiped from the face of the earth. It's incredible."

Dan emphasized that he would not give up without a fight, because what's he's really fighting for is the right to free speech for all Americans, regardless of their political opinions, without fear of being banned, blacklisted, or losing jobs and businesses.

"I will go bankrupt. I will go absolutely destitute before I let this go," he said. "I have had some very scary moments in my life and they put horse blinders on me. I know what matters now. It's not money. It's not houses. It's none of that crap. It's this: the ability to exist in a free country, where you can express your ideas freely."

Watch the video below to hear more from Dan:

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Joe Biden's administration is getting ready for something historic, but we're all being distracted. And now that Biden has hired at least 14 former or current executives from Big Tech — experts at colluding to censor unflattering news about Biden — Americans must be laser-focused on what's coming.

On January 20, the most corrupt president in American history will be inaugurated, and it looks like some of his cabinet choices were picked specifically so everything just – poof – goes away. The administration nominees appear to be all about preserving corruption, crony capitalism, and executing a Great Reset. Those same people also have one more thing in common: Ukraine.

On his Wednesday night special this week, Glenn exposes their radical agenda in their own words and gives U.S. senators the questions they must ask before confirming corrupt nominees to some of the highest offices in the country.


Freedom of speech is important. Here at BlazeTV, we work hard to bring you the truth from the most pro-America network in the country, free from Big Tech censors. Support free speech by supporting BlazeTV. Get our largest discount ever: $30 off a one-year subscription with code GLENN. Show your support and join us today!

I want to talk to you about something that probably didn't make a lot of sense a long time ago. In fact, I can't tell you how many program directors and how many stations threatened to cancel. Or how many calls I got from the average listener saying; What the hell are you even talking about when I talked about, the leadership of Martin Luther King.

I have done everything I can — as much as I possibly can — to teach you about Martin Luther King and nonviolent protests. And I don't think there's anybody in the media who has talked about nonviolence longer and more in-depth on commercial airwaves than me. Preachers, certainly. But commercial airwaves — I don't think anybody has.

Now I think many are beginning to understand why I tried to lay that foundation. I have told you since September 11th that I have this feeling you are going to be the group of people that will, in the end, save the republic.

I've always believed that. I don't know how it's saved. It might just be preserved in our hearts, I don't know. But I believe it now.

I never wanted us to get to this point — everything I've done is to prevent us from getting here. But everybody is so politically tied to their side that no one will let their shields down and actually listen to one another.

And we're at that desperate point now.

You are equipped to save the republic because you at least hopefully have a fundamental understanding of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. And you have at least a basic understanding of American history. More importantly, what makes this audience so phenomenal is that it is the most generous and service-minded audience of any show in America and perhaps the world.

That's part of what continues to be so frustrating about the Capitol invasion last week. Because you're being maligned.

You.

I know who you are. This is the most peaceful, generous, loving, God-fearing, authentic and patriotic audience in America. And you are frustrated and you are tired of being hit in the face and being called bigot and everything else no matter what you do.

I've been called an anti-Semite just in the last 24 hours by everybody, unjustly.

I get it.

You are now being tainted by the actions of complete imbeciles who do not represent you and me. It's not fair. But that's the hand that we're being dealt and God is in charge and He is not surprised.

We know the left's current tactics fail in the long run. Silencing. Canceling. Taking away rights.

We know the left's current tactics fail in the long run. Silencing. Canceling. Taking away rights. These are the hallmarks of regime, after regime, after Marxist regime on the ash heaps of history. Now China is still there because they've taken the so-called free market and took the capitalist system and they combined it with their Marxist utopia.

I don't know what's going to happen to the people over there. Especially seeing that our high-tech has joined them to weed out the dissidents. But it's not inevitable that we join them.

And it is going to require us to take a stand. Just not in the way that most people — especially if they're angry — think is most effective. Look at the ratings of BLM. 78 percent of Americans, at the beginning of the summer, thought that they were swell.

That number is in the low 20s now. Why? Because violence doesn't work.

I don't know if you saw the fellowship of the ring, but if you did, do you remember when Frodo said: "I don't want to do this!"

He's lamenting having to face down the evil and he's just one guy. I'll never forget it because it was right after 9/11, that the movie came out. I'll never forget Gandalf's reply. He said: "So do we all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what we're going to do with the time that is given us."

We can't decide what others are going to do. We can't control the dangerous Orwellian darkness that seems to be descending on America. All we can control is our response and strive to lead by example. If you know anyone in your sphere of influence who might be planning to attend one of these armed rallies in the coming days, beg them not to go. Do everything you can to stop them.

That's not a way to take a stand and it will not protect anything you hold dear and it will endanger the republic. It is what the other side wants.

So how do we take a stand?

The first thing I need you to do today is to help lower the temperature. It has been so hard for me not to respond to people on Twitter who have called me every name under the sun because I quoted the leading Holocaust historian last night on Tucker Carlson.

But see, that wasn't an attack on me, that was an attack on Tucker. If you can scare the guests from coming on to Tucker, you destroy Tucker. That's what they're doing.

Do not vent your anger on social media. At this point, it is probably just going to get your account shut down.

I want you to write this down and I want you to keep this in front of you.

Blessed are the peacemakers. For they will be called the children of God.

That means something today, much more than it did six months ago.

Blessed be the peacemakers.

Be a peacemaker.

And this is the hard part, you can't disconnect. Because things are moving too rapidly. You must stay plugged in.

But I want you to reach out to someone in kindness on social media. Encourage someone. Do not engage with the darkness. Be the light in the corner of your world.

You need to be a leader for what is to come.

And I know I'm asking you almost the impossible. I know you're angry and frustrated and it is gut-wrenching to feel that you're powerless to stop your nation from what you believe is sliding into the abyss.

You are not powerless. You are not voiceless.

I believe it too, with everything in me. I wish I was wrong. I hope that I am. I pray that I am. But know this: You are not powerless. You are not voiceless. You may be the only voice that anyone hears. Voices like mine will go away. I am trying to think of what I need to share with you before, God forbid, that ever happens. Because I cannot live with myself if I talked about something stupid politically and I find my voice silenced and then saying, I wish I would have said this or I wish I would have told them that.

You wield more power than you know. Not because of your voice or being able to call your congressman. You're more powerful than you know because you understand the real problem in America. The real problem in America is not political.

It is spiritual.

If you're like me when you get angry, you think that you are going to take on this challenge on your own — you are not being humble. You think you'll fix it. Everything that is happening to us is because we are an arrogant, out of control people.

We must humble ourselves. Please, you have the skill and the strength to endure the fiery darts that are going to come your way or already are. But this is a problem with our hearts.

You cannot reach someone's head without capturing their heart and no one is going to capture anyone's heart through violence.

Start in your own home and then reach out and if you're able, serve your neighbor. If you can, serve your local community. You must be a beacon of light in a very dark place. I'm going to ask you to do something you're really not going to like. And that's how I know things are from God. When I hear something or I think something and I'm like — oh crap, I don't want to do that — and you just know it it's right. You just know it's what God wants. And you're hoping that maybe you didn't hear it.

And it's so horrible. Because it's the last thing you want to do. But God is unlike many of our churches and preachers, He doesn't tell us what we want to hear. He doesn't have to pay for the church or get collection. Or be judged by how many people go.

Rise above the fray, with service and love, with malice toward none and charity toward all.

He'll say the same thing and he'll lose whole flocks. And they'll eventually start to go — oh wait, where is the Shepherd again?

But I have to tell you now some things that I want you to do. And they're not new. But I need you to hear me. I am asking you if you want to stand for the republic, I need you first to pray.

Pray like you've never prayed before. Pray for humility. Pray for guidance. Pray for peace. Pray for those people who you think you hate. Because you don't. Because hatred does not come from any good place.

Then I want you go out and serve someone in any way possible. On inauguration day especially, get your family and your children involved. Volunteer somewhere, take someone a meal. Do something to lift the spirits of hospital workers or your local police department.

Help a stranger mow a lawn, fix someone's car, pick up trash on the side of the highway. Do what you can do. But the most important thing is to do it with a sincere heart. And if someone asks you, why are you doing this? Just say, because I love my country.

Rise above the fray with service and love, with malice toward none and charity toward all.

Watch how the conversation went on radio HERE:

A pre-Inauguration Day plea: You wield MUCH more power than you know youtu.be


Early Monday morning, Amazon Web Services removed social networking platform Parler from its cloud servers. This comes just after Apple and Google removed the Parler app from their app stores over the weekend.

"You can't find them on the internet anymore. They're gone," Glenn Beck said on his radio program Monday.

"This is something I warned you of four years ago ... because a profound technological change is coming," he continued. "I told you, at the time, high tech will need the government, and the government will need high tech. And they will work together to preserve their power and their position. This is what's happening, today."

Glenn said he believes the "far left" has been talking about breaking up companies like Parler for years, and that the Capitol riots provided the opportunity they needed.

"This is not the end of this. This is where the Left is starting," he warned. "Those who persist in standing for freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom to assemble, freedom to keep and bear arms, those people will be targeted for deletion. You will be hounded, boycotted, fired, ostracized, and de-platformed. And the louder and the more significant and effective your voice is, the bigger the target is on your back.

"But, let me say this: I will never stop standing for freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom to assemble, freedom to keep and bear arms, and all of the rest of the Bill of Rights. That is the American thing to do."

Watch the video below for more from Glenn:


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