Another Cleveland home opener, another reason to honor die-hard fans who aren't here

New York Times

08-04-2025

CLEVELAND — On April 8, 2024, before a spellbinding total solar eclipse eerily darkened the afternoon sky and before the Guardians blanked the White Sox in the home opener, Megan Dewey lost her grandmother Laverne.
At Laverne's wake, a gathering of people in Cleveland gear, her seven grandchildren stepped outside, tuned a car radio to the Guardians game, toasted to her memory with some drinks and listened to Tom Hamilton narrate an 8-7 win over the Yankees.
Advertisement
After Laverne lost her husband to leukemia in 1986, the baseball team became her love. She would watch every game and then watch the replay the next morning, captivated by every pitch, despite knowing the outcome. Megan can still hear the sigh her grandmother would release whenever they relinquished a late lead. While sorting through Laverne's belongings, her five children discovered a notebook from the 2023 season, with scores and notes for every game. She had started one for the 2024 season, too.
Last weekend, Megan and four cousins got tattoos to honor Laverne. Megan's ink is on her shoulder, a nod to Laverne always looking out for her. After work on Tuesday, Megan plans to visit her gravesite, where she'll listen to Hamilton's call of another home opener, for as long as she can tolerate the bone-chilling temperatures.
Another home opener is here, and for many, it's a day to celebrate a new season and a day to remember those who are no longer able to join them for the journey ahead.
Whenever Rachel Buck wanted to catch a game at Progressive Field, she turned to her grandmother Janet, who had season tickets in right field for a decade. Rachel attended her first game with her sister and grandparents on a chilly afternoon, and Janet covered them in an Indians blanket.
'I learned that day what it meant to be a true fan,' Rachel says.
Janet witnessed Cleveland win the World Series in 1948, when she was 12. She grew up on the same street as a Cleveland player — her family can't recall the player's name — and before he hopped on the streetcar in Lakewood to head downtown to Municipal Stadium every afternoon, she would yell to him, 'Have a good game!' She and her husband, Henry, attended a team cruise in the 1990s, and took a picture with Omar Vizquel, Brian Giles, Steve Karsay, Jeff Branson and Davey Nelson. Rachel retains fond memories of lounging at her aunt's pool with her grandmother as Hamilton's voice comforted them from a nearby radio.
Advertisement
Janet passed away in May 2016, so she missed the club's run that October, as well as memorable stretches in 2017, '22 and '24. During Game 5 of the 2016 ALCS, Rachel was working as a dishwasher at Gene's Place To Dine at Kamm's Corner, with her phone connected to the speaker so she could follow Cleveland's bid to reach the World Series. When Carlos Santana hauled in the final out and dropped to his knees in foul territory, she shed a few tears.
'I wished I could celebrate that with my grandma,' she says. 'It was honestly bittersweet at the time.'
Years ago, Rachel vowed to attend the home opener each year with a different guest. On Tuesday, it's her friend David's turn. They'll sit in the top row at Progressive Field, where a wind gust or a gaze out at the city limits can make anyone acrophobic. She wouldn't have it any other way, blanket and all, just like her first game with her grandmother.
'I miss her so much,' Rachel says, 'but I feel more connected with her through the Guardians.'
A two-hour commute to the ballpark occasionally caused Daryl Gates some headaches, and not just because he drove a massive family truckster conversion van through the narrow, busy streets of downtown Cleveland.
'He may or may not have backed into cars on back-to-back nights during the '98 ALCS,' says his son, Brett.
To beat the traffic and start that journey home to Marion, Ohio, Daryl took pride in nailing the perfect time to hustle back to the parking lot. His record wasn't flawless, however. They bailed on the final innings on a sweltering Sunday afternoon game in July 2002, just before an unheralded utility player named Bill Selby smacked a walk-off grand slam against future unanimous Hall of Fame selection Mariano Rivera, which landed Joel Skinner his second victory as interim manager.
Advertisement
Daryl was born in 1952, four years after the club's last championship and just in time for four decades of miserable baseball on the lakeshore. But they were his team, so even though the family lived two hours south, once Jacobs Field opened in 1994, they had season tickets in right field.
When the 1995 Indians clinched the franchise's first playoff berth in 41 years, Daryl had tears in his eyes as they raised a banner in the outfield. He marveled at the accomplishment of a star-studded, city-galvanizing roster, but he also knew they were playing Garth Brooks' 'The Dance' on the ballpark speakers as a tribute to reliever Steve Olin, who had tragically died in a spring training boating accident two years earlier. That's when it hit Brett how much the team meant to his dad.
'If you knew me and my brothers,' Brett says, 'you wouldn't necessarily blame him for wanting the break.'
The home opener was a rite of spring in the Gates household. Brett was stunned when he came home from third grade on April 1, 1996, and saw his dad wasn't two hours north, shivering through nine innings. The game against the Yankees had been snowed out.
Daryl typically attended the home opener with some buddies, since his sons were in school, but he made sure to bring the boys to one of the first weekend games of the home slate. In 1997, they were halfway up I-71 for the Indians' second home game when it was postponed because of rain. Daryl detoured to a Mansfield movie theater, and the boys caught all but the first half-hour of 'The Lost World: Jurassic Park.'
Baseball was embedded in the family DNA. Daryl coached his sons and developed a reputation for stomping and throwing his hat. Even as the boys sprouted their families, they tried to make time for their baseball team. When Daryl called to say he had an extra ticket for Game 4 of the 2016 World Series at Wrigley Field, Brett didn't think twice. They watched Cleveland crawl to within one win of a title.
The 2024 season started customarily. Daryl and Brett convinced themselves the Guardians had a chance to win the division since the AL Central was devoid of any juggernauts. Shane Bieber's early season elbow injury tested their confidence, but they kept faith.
Advertisement
In mid-April, Daryl fell ill. After a few weeks, he entered hospice.
On May 22, during an afternoon game against the New York Mets, Brett sat bedside, scorebook in hand. Daryl had taught his son how to keep score. Brett still has a stack of scorecards he's filled out over the years, and he couldn't help but smirk when he watched a clip of Tom Hanks keeping score at a recent Los Angeles Dodgers game.
Father and son watched Andrés Giménez tie the game with a three-run blast against his former team. They smiled as the second baseman kissed the front of his navy uniform as he crossed home plate. They cheered as the Guardians pulled away for a win and a series sweep in a season that seemed destined for something special.
For Brett, it was a perfect way to say goodbye. His dad passed away two days later.
Now, Brett has his first home opener without his father. He's found himself reaching for his phone to send his dad a text after certain moments of Guardians games. He can envision the fiery back-and-forth they would have had after Gabriel Arias ran — and then tackled — his way into a double play in San Diego last week.
He knows it will be difficult to see Progressive Field filled during the home opener, yet empty at the same time. It'll be missing the guy who would have done anything to be there, even if it meant driving through a blizzard in his van just to sit through a blustery day of baseball.
Brett knows, though, that another home opener means a chance to embrace all of the memories that will undoubtedly come flooding back.
'It's the shared experience and love for something,' Brett says, 'and that's all you can ask for in this world. No matter what, there will be stories to tell for many years to come, and I have my dad to thank for that.'
(Photo of Progressive Field: Lauren Bacho / MLB Photos via Getty Images)