Maybe I’m just an idiot.
OK, you don’t have to agree so fast.
It was Tuesday night after midnight. My work was done, my flight booked for the following day. Omaha would soon be in my rear view. I was unwinding at the Hilton which was the team hotel for the Gator baseball team and their families.
That’s when it happened. Karsten Whitson’s mom came over and introduced herself. She is a delightful woman and we chatted about the game and her son.
And then I said it.
“Your husband was a pretty good pitcher too.”
“My husband? Kent?”
Uh, I don’t know where I read it or heard it but I know it wasn’t once that I did. Karsten is the son of former major leaguer Ed Whitson, right?
Nope. His mom told me she’s called publications and web sites and TV networks to set them straight. It’s one of those urban legends that kept growing and took on a life of its own.
I felt like an idiot. But she was so sweet it didn’t last for long.
Omaha is over. So happy to be back with my girls. But it was great to meet so many people out there, including Bucky Dent and Vickash Ramjit’s family. And the great folks at D.J.’s Dugout and M’s Pub and Rock Bottom.
I am off until SEC Media Days. Football is right around the corner. Where did the summer go?