The Routly’s and baseball go back a long way. Some of the earliest stories I remember hearing about my Dad, Ron, include him catching, while his older brother, Gerry, pitched - of course. In fact, in 1929, my Dad played second base for the Ontario Bantam championship team, from Peterborough, Ontario.
Throughout my childhood, there were may nights when we would cross the Hunter Street Bridge to watch some great softball, often featuring one of the best pitchers I ever saw, Ray Judd. I also remember going to the odd Toronto Maple Leaf game on the lakeshore in downtown Toronto, and even to see the Yankees play in Yankee Stadium one July afternoon in 1963 (I think). I don’t remember much about the game, but I know there was an eclipse of the sun that afternoon!
When Elsie, the children and I moved to Toronto in 1979, our interest in the Blue Jays began. For the next 14 years, as we stayed close to Toronto, our attraction to the team increased, and included many highlights, including a League Championship Series game against Kansas City in ‘85, getting lots of autographs, meeting Fred McGriff in Eaton’s Centre, attending a game at SkyDome for the first time, having dinner at Windows Restaurant while the Jays beat Kirby Puckett and the Twins, and of course, two World Series championships in ‘92 and ‘93. Let’s not discuss what’s happened since then.
Our move to British Columbia meant attending the occasional game in Seattle, and seeing the Reds play at Candlestick in San Francisco in ‘94 - the day before the strike began. When Dave got married and moved to Phoenix, it meant two visit in March, and of course, that means spring training, involving several teams in the Cactus League, and included Garth Brook’s premiere in left field for the San Diego Padres. I still wear the cap I bought that day in Peoria.
Last night took our appreciation for baseball to a different level. Elsie and I are visiting Dave and Maia, and of course Bren and Jace (they turn three months old this week). While in Atlanta, we had to take in a Braves game, and Dave made the plans. It turns out Pfizer, where he now works, has just bought out Parke-Davis, and they own a private box at Turner Field. With a group of trainees in town, they booked it for last night, so Dave and I had the privilege of joining them. With catered hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken fingers and hot wings, this was right up there with the peel-and-eat shrimp of Windows Restaurant - but with the added advantage of being a part of the crowd. Oh, and after taking an early 3-0 lead, the Braves managed to give up 5 runs in the 8th, and lost 5-4. Seeing the Braves lose in Atlanta is something I’ve always enjoyed seeing - ever since an October night in ‘92!
Now, if I could only find Dave’s old glove - the one with Bill Caudill’s autograph - maybe Bren, Jace and I could play a little catch. Maybe not THIS year, but soon.
July 21st, 2001
Phil
We recently were in the terrible position of having to put Sandy, our beloved dog, to sleep, due to worsening health problems that were making him suffer too much. Here are some thoughts on Sandy…
Good Dog by Chris Routly
In what we think is the hardest thing we have either had to do, today dad and I took Sandy on his final driveFor 16 years, he was a part of our family. He was a good dog - always loyal, always good for a laugh, always fighting to stay a puppy.I remember very distinctly when we got him, shortly after the loss of Snoopy. I always regretted missing the drive to get him, but his bond to mom was made then and there and his loyalty to her never wavered. He has been one of the few constants in all the years our family has moved around.
It was hard to watch him get old… and to see him fight it all the way. But I am glad he is no longer confused, no longer worried, no longer will feel any pain. He went quickly and with no pain. I spent his last moments holding his head and looking him in the eyes.
I will miss him. He will always be a part of our family. He was a good dog.
Sandy, a Little Brother by Melodie Routly
Sandy to me has always been like the best kind of a little brother. He put up with nearly any kind of treatment I would give him. He let me ride hamsters and cats on his back. I remember on several occasions dressing him up in pretty dresses and in my red skating outfit. Red was his colour. Red furry toys, red squeaky footballs and red collars.I remember when I was seven years old going to get him from the lady who had him. She had named him “Duke”. He wasn’t a “Duke” he was a “Sandy.” The ritual that we had made when I bathed him was to sing the song titled “Sandy” from the movie “Annie.” That and “How much is that Doggy in the window?” Chris was right when he said that Sandy was one of the main constants in our life of moving. He moved with us every time. From Toronto to Calgary. I many ways I feel like there has been a huge loss in our family, and like things will never quite be the same again.
On Christmas morning we won’t see him sitting at his stocking waiting to play with his new squeaky toy and bone. The tradition of him sneaking into his stocking later in the day to go and eat all of his Jerky won’t be happening anymore.
We have always said that he wasn’t the smartest or the bravest. But he survived many many years with us. He must have been smart and brave. Sandy was one of the most gentle and loving dogs I have ever known. When Sushi (and Callie) were a babies he cuddled next to them and comforted them like a father. When I was sad, he would cuddle next to me. When we would attack mom, he would protect her. When Chris, Dave and I would fight, he would join in. Just like a little brother.
I’ll miss him.
Memories by Phil Routly
Sixteen years and thousands of stories later, the Routly’s are now Sandy-less.What a good and faithful friend he has been!One of my favourite stories goes to a June weekend in London, Ontario. 1992, I think. Sandy hadn’t been felling well, and we had taken him to the vet on the Friday. They gave him some medication, but we were concerned because we had to spend all day Saturday in Sarnia, as I was conducting my niece’s wedding. So, we arranged for a couple from our church – Eddie and Doris – to check in on him a few times during the day.They first dropped in a couple of hours after we had left. Sandy greeted them at the door the way we hoped he would welcome a burglar – barking, growling, and gnashing of teeth! It was quite obvious to Eddie that Sandy was alive and well, so he left him alone.A couple of hours later, it was time to check in again. This time, Eddie and Doris were greeted like long-lost friends – nuzzling up, licking, being as friendly as could be! Obviously, Sandy was doing quite well in our absence.
Of course, we also learned that, as a guard dog, Sandy failed miserably! If you wanted to rob us, just visit twice – the second time, Sandy would help you load the truck!
Thanks, Sandy, for all the memories! We’ll always love you.
Sandy: The Dog Who Could Spell by Dave Routly
When I think back on our experiences with Sandy, I am amazed at what a unique and special dog he was. Sandy was not a normal dog. He did a million crazy things, he had tremendous character and personality, and he was as loved as any dog that I have known.There are so many things about Sandy that made him unique. The way that he was afraid of shadows when we got him in Toronto. The way that he tried to bite ocean foam. The way that he hated to have his feet or tail touched, and would lick you like crazy if you blew in his face. The fact that he loved to eat cheese. The way he would go crazy after you gave him a bath, showing off to everybody. The way that he would freak out if you said that you were going to take him for a walk, and the way that you could spell F-E-E-D and he would know what it meant. That was weird.
The thing was that Sandy’s uniqueness never changed or faded. When I left home he was 12 years old, old for a dog, and he had the same personality and temperament that he had held when he was a puppy. So many things changed for our family while we were growing up - moves, different churches, different priorities, schooling, etc. Sandy never changed. We could be learning anything, dealing with anything, or coming back from anywhere and we would find that no matter how we had changed and no matter where we ended up, Sandy was still as crazy and loving as ever. He was a constant in a family life that was so rarely constant.I have only seen Sandy once in the last 4 years. Two years ago I had the chance to see him and I said goodbye. I did not believe that I would see him again, since he was old at the time and I was still not permitted to return to Canada. At the same time, the awareness that he was still there and that he was still unchanged gave me a sense of home and of consistency that was more important than I knew it to be at the time. His loss clarifies the changes that have occurred in us all over the years. He was a rock, and now he is gone.
I miss Sandy. I miss the woolly feeling of his fur, his skinny legs and soft ears. I mostly miss his affection, because he was such an affectionate dog. He was a special part of our lives, and we will remember him always.
July 9th, 2001
Chris