It’s time to celebrate a grand slam
I have written something like 3,000 sports stories in my time at Beacon Communications. No matter how many more sports stories I write and no matter how good they are, my favorite story from this place will always be a love story.
To mix the genres, this story is a grand slam.
On Friday, I’m marrying the love of my life, Meg Fraser. I don’t usually write about myself much in these pages, because they’re sports pages and I am a terrible athlete, but I think I’ll make an exception for this.
It’s time to celebrate the grand slam.
We met in 2008 in the very office where I’m writing this column. Looking back, it’s amazing that we were here.
I moved to Rhode Island from Kentucky after college, taking a chance on the first sports-writing job I got offered. Former sports editor Ed Owens – the best man on Friday – took a chance on some kid from Kentucky who was willing to move halfway across the country.
A few years later, Meg had just graduated from Northeastern University. She’s a Warwick native and she had done an internship at the Beacon. But in 2008, she was ready for her next step, maybe magazine writing, maybe Boston. And then Beacon publisher John Howell ran into her, and in a classic John Howell move, mentioned that he might need someone to help out when one of his editors went on maternity leave.
That editor had the baby a few days later, John told Meg, “I guess it’s sink or swim,” and in she went. Thankfully for everybody – especially this guy – she’s a good swimmer.
We started dating in 2009. She always says she knew well before that. Apparently, it was the dimples that did it. I was a little more unsure. To mix genres again, she was throwing fastballs and I was bailing out.
But I came to my senses eventually and realized the girl of my dreams was sitting right next to me, just a half-wall between us.
I am grateful that I did.
We have been together almost five years now, and they’ve been the best almost five years of my life. I get laugh-induced stomach aches pretty much every day. We have fun whether we’re on a date or shopping for groceries. We high-five a lot. She’s an incredible cook. I’m an incredible eater of her food. We appreciate each other’s dance moves. I love baseball. She loves keeping score at baseball games. (Yes, that sealed the deal.)
She’s my biggest fan – I think I’d be president if everyone saw me the way she does. I worship the ground she walks on. We believe in each other. And we’re not afraid to write sappy columns about each other.
Before it gets too dusty in here, I should get back to the story.
I proposed last September, on our deck in Wickford. It had to be a sneak attack or she would have been on to me.
She said yes.
The last nine months have been a whirlwind of flowers and welcome bags, dresses and sport coats, photos and music, cakes and cupcakes, chalkboard paint and a failed attempt at making lobster-shaped cookies.
We’re in the home stretch, and I can’t wait for the finish line.
I may not have hit many grand slams in my baseball career. None, in fact. Meg never even played baseball or softball.
But Friday night, the bases will be loaded, and we’ll be knocking one out of the park.
William Geoghegan is the sports editor at the Warwick Beacon. He can be reached at 732-3100 and firstname.lastname@example.org.