Wednesday, March 03, 2004

Holy Smokes!

Marge Schott is Dead. Marge has gone around the bend. Meetin' up with Schottzie.
The Queen City must mourn their 'queen'.

I remember the only words Marge ever said to me.

A warm evening in June of 1990. I was selling beer by the bottle, lugging two cases through the blue seats at Riverfront Stadium. Lotsa families at the ballpark to see the Mighty Reds. I approached the seats where Marge usually sits, but the aisle was half filled with children waiting to pet Schottzie and get Marge's autograph. I hesitated to go down the aisle, but then Marge began to wave at me yelling "Hey sonny, come on down here. These folks need beer."

Balancing the cases of beer, I navigated around the tots sitting in the aisle. With cigarette dangling from her lips, Marge added, "Don't worry about these kids. They'll get out of your way. Heh, heh."

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