By Ck Egan
Wife of Former Radio Guy and General Manager, Rob Egan

I grew up knowing I would have a family. I had a nice, clean image in my head of a husband with a briefcase, a couple kids...impeccably groomed....and a nice home in the suburbs. The house was always spotless, everything had a place. The yard was meticulously landscaped. There was even a cat, and possibly a dog.

I have kids. Three. Two boys, one girl. I have a husband. I’ve never seen him carry a briefcase. For that matter, he doesn’t own a briefcase.

Most days I’m lucky if two of the three kids have on an outfit that matches. (Hey! At least it’s clean!) We have a nice, respectable home. It’s not exactly in the suburbs, but I like the neighborhood. I’m still waiting for the maid to show up.

Those three kids I mentioned? They can put the hurt on a house in no time flat. The lawn has more crabgrass than actual grass-grass. Some days, the weeds in the flower gardens are more numerous than the flowers themselves. The cat?  She lived a good, long life. We miss her. But for now, we are blissfully pet-free.

Did I come close to that idyllic picture in my head? Not really. The life that I live every day is a reality I could not have attempted to conjure an image of. The catalyst? Baseball.  Rob was with his fourth team when we finally got pregnant. I can’t say the timing was perfect, because…..well….is the timing ever perfect? But it was our time, our turn. I’d been dreaming for years of the day the stick finally turned blue. It did so in March of 2000. We were elated. Infertility treatments had taken its toll on me physically, mentally and emotionally. I had taken a toll on Rob.

By April we knew we were expecting twins. I quickly ballooned to the size of a small elephant. An elephant who was bloated from all the retained water. I was nearly as wide as I was tall.

I was still working for the team at that time. There are still season ticket holders that remember me waddling down the stairs, with my Field of Dreams little leaguers in tow. They watched me get bigger and bigger and bigger. Some of the guys on the team were pretty entranced by it as well. I endured good-natured jokes questioning whether there were two or perhaps four, babies in there?

Ha Ha Ha.

When the team was home, I was a happy pregnant person. My husband was home, the ballpark was filled with people wanting to rub the belly (Please don’t.) and to gush about how huge I was much I glowed.

But it was lonely. I missed my friends. I was pregnant alone. I missed my mom. On nights when the babies were particularly active, kicking and squirming, I missed their Dad. He didn’t get to experience so many kicks, thumps, squirms and hiccups.

I was due in November. Good planning! The Off Season. My boys had other ideas. They were born in August, a full three months early. Not to mention, during Baseball Season.  The front office staff, the owners, the game-day employees and the fans rallied around us.

Some of the players and their wives sent cards. One of our twins was in the NICU for eighty-four days. We buried his twin surrounded by the family members who could be there, the front office staff and even some fans, who by this time felt like they knew Rob from hearing him on the radio every night.

It was that day that I knew this town was home.

Our younger son and our only daughter were born in 2002 and 2004. They were also born during the season. For that I am unapologetic. Babies are born on their own schedule.

Having baseball babies was a challenge. Rob missed a good bit of their infancies. It was difficult to be the only one “on call” when Rob was on the road. But I made it work. I had my babies. Being a Mom was always my biggest dream.

Taking those babies to the ballpark was natural for me. The double stroller was a permanent fixture in the back of the van. The boys were often spotted wearing coordinated baseball outfits. (The girl was always in pink or purple. After two boys, I was dying for some frill!) I have very fond memories of my toddlers running around the ballpark, on the field, through the stands. I have many pictures of them in Rob’s radio booth with headsets perched on their little heads, so they could listen to Daddy.

My life was nothing like the life I had pictured. But it was our life. It was unique. It wasn’t easy. It was still lonely for me at times. Just as we were gearing up for season #11, Rob decided to hang up his headset and leave baseball.

As most of us know, The Game has a very VERY strong pull.

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