Tag / baseball

by Braxton Parmer

The Phone Call: Nine Years Later

We’ve all got that one best friend that we do absolutely everything with. The friend that we can depend on for absolutely anything and everything. The one that is considered family.

For me, my best friend gained her wings nine years ago today. 3,287 days ago to be exact without my best friend. The one that I went to for literally everything, the one I could depend on for everything, my partner-in-crime, the sister I never had.

When she loved, she loved hard but if you ever crossed her, she’d make sure you knew where you stood and she definitely wasn’t one to sugarcoat anything.

She and I shared thousands of memories in her 16 years here on Earth, some of which I probably shouldn’t share here but she would want me to. I would share them all but neither I nor you have that kind of time. So I’ll just share three of them here. Regardless of how hard it is to select three from thousands of memories.

Some of my favorite memories with her include the time we went to Mardi Gras together in Mobile, Alabama, and saw a man whom we jokingly nicknamed “M&M Man,” due to his yellow M&M jacket. Another one of my favorites is the “Baby monitor,” I won’t go into detail about that one, you just had to be there to really understand how funny it really was.

Another one of my favorite memories with Jody is being the mascot while she was a cheerleader two years in a row in middle school. The memories that we made together could never be replaced.

I like to think of our friendship as a “Bonnie & Clyde” type relationship even though neither of us would ever have killed anybody. Even though, it may have crossed our minds a time or two when it came to our siblings, but we laughed because we literally never took anything at all seriously. If one of us needed the other, we knew all we had to do was pick the phone up and we’d be there for each other.

If you ever saw one of us, the other wasn’t too far behind. I can’t think of too much that we didn’t do together. The friendship that the two of us shared seemingly doesn’t exist these days.

The day before she gained her wings, I was calling a 100-inning fundraiser baseball game at Wetumpka High School that morning and she was set to take part in the Beauty and Beau pageant at the school that night.

When I arrived at the baseball field that morning, I received a text from her as I entered the press box that said “I’m comin up there with you,” to which I responded, “Come on then, I’ve already got a seat ready for you up here.”

The two of us sat in the press box at Bazemore Field together for all 100 innings of the game. That night, she competed in the Beauty and Beau pageant. Little did either of us know what would happen the next day.

February 2, 2014 started out like an ordinary day. It was the day of Super Bowl 48 between Denver and Seattle. I was in the back of the house on the computer at about 4:30pm when my mom comes running into the room from the kitchen and screams “Jody! It’s Jody!” At the time my first thought was ‘Oh God, what has she done now?’

At 5pm, my brother comes in and takes my phone from me. Something just wasn’t adding up to me. What was happening? But I didn’t think anything of it, I just continued on the computer.

Then at 6:30pm, the phone rings, it’s mon so I pick it up and say “Hello?” The next thing I heard left me speechless. Mom said “Jody’s gone. I can’t talk right now I’ll be home after a while.”

I hung the phone up and didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even believe what I had just heard. My best friend was gone. She had gained her wings.

A few days later, I was asked by her brother to be a pallbearer at her funeral on the 6th. I didn’t know if I could do it. I didn’t know if I was mentally strong enough to carry my best friend one last time. But then, I knew she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

That night was visitation. I walked up to the back door of the church and entered the fellowship hall, where I was met with hugs from everybody in her family. They escorted me into the sanctuary.

When I entered the sanctuary, I fell apart. It was real. She was gone. I walked to the front pew and sat down in front of her with tears flowing down my face.

At the funeral, the school shut down because of it and to this day, I still haven’t seen anything like it the sanctuary was completely full. When it was time for us to carry the casket out of the sanctuary I pulled down the aviator sunglasses that i had hooked to my sports coat and pointed to the sky.

I gripped the casket with tear-filled eyes, lifted it and loaded it into the hearse. I turned around afterward and was met with more hugs and words of encouragement.

All of the pallbearers rode in one truck behind the hearse, we listened to rap the whole way to the cemetery, I know, we probably shouldn’t have, but we did it anyway. After all, she would’ve laughed about it and she probably did.

When we got to the cemetery, we pulled in and parked. Then we loaded the casket onto the lowering table. Afterwards, I fell apart again and was met with more hugs.

I had just laid my best friend to rest. Jody, thank you so much for everything you ever did for me and for making sure I’m safe every day from Heaven. As bad as I wish you were still here with me, it comforts to know that our best days haven’t come yet, because they will come in Heaven one day. For now, I promise you will live on in my heart.

I know we didn’t always agree on things but I thank God every day that we never let that get between us and the friendship that we shared and still share to this day. I take the the most pride in telling people that my best friend is in the presence of God and there I too, will be when my time comes.

As long as I live, I will never forget the phone call I received on February 2, 2014. I will do whatever it takes to keep Jody’s name alive.

Rest easy beautiful, I love you more than you will ever even begin to know. You’re always going to be safe with me. Save me a seat in Heaven beside you.

Hold your loved ones tight folks. Tell them you love them.

God Bless.

by Braxton Parmer

A Decade Behind the Mic: Looking Back at the Past Ten Years of my Career

In 38 days, on Saturday, February 18, 2023, I will begin my 10th year as the Voice of Bazemore Field. When I look back on the past ten years I am provided with the greatest memories of my life.

I have announced just short of 550 baseball games in those 10 years. I’ve celebrated jubilantly after many monumental wins and I’ve felt the pain of losses along with the team throughout the past decade.

For many, my voice serves as a reminder that baseball season has returned and another year is about to begin. I have been blessed to have had several great mentors over the past ten years who have helped me cultivate my voice into what it is today.

The list of those mentors is far too long to list here. But if I have stepped into your press box or sat in with you during a game, just know that you have played a huge role in my career.

In 38 days, I will call the 551st baseball game of my career. There have only been a handful of games that I have missed in my career because, well, life happens, things pop up, sickness occurs. But as long as I have breath in my body, I can promise you, I will be inside of the press box at Bazemore Field, providing commentary for those in attendance.

Let’s get to work.

by Braxton Parmer

See Ya Later, Champ; Open Letter to Dansby Swanson

Dear Dansby Swanson,

When news broke Saturday afternoon of you being dealt to the Chicago Cubs, it flashed on my phone and I honestly couldn’t believe what I was reading.

I’ve never seen you in another professional jersey other than that of your hometown team, the Atlanta Braves. Back in 2016, we got you in a trade with the Arizona Diamondbacks that sent Shelby Miller to the Desert.

You’ve been with us at our absolute worst, and you’ve been with us when we were on top of the proverbial baseball world. To say you will be missed would be an absolute understatement. Thank you, Dansby.

Thank you for giving us your all every time you hit the field. From your clutch plays in 2016 to the last out of the 2021 World Series, you left it all out on that diamond.

Thank you for everything, my friend. What an incredible ride you’ve seen with us. I can’t think of a shortstop that I would’ve rather won a World Series with than you.

Thank you, sir. We love you.

Best of luck in the Windy City. Never forget where home is. This isn’t goodbye, it’s simply see ya later, Champ.

by Braxton Parmer

16 Years Later: In Loving Memory of Big Ken

16 years ago today, on October 2, 2006, my grandad lost an eight-month battle with pancreatic cancer. My brother and I affectionately referred to him as “Big Ken,” due to his 6’4” frame. That name fit him in more ways than just his physical stature. To the two of us, he was larger than life itself.

He loved sports, the outdoors, his family and so much more but most importantly, he loved the Lord. His hair was as white as a cotton field, his clothes were always starched, not a wrinkle in sight, his car was spotless. His favorite candy was Circus Peanuts with a glass-bottled Coke, the type that leaves divet imprints in your hand if you don’t use a bottle opener.

Although you can hardly find glass-bottle cokes anywhere these days, I like to think that he is the reason that I love Circus Peanuts. He took great pride in everything he did in his 68 years.

Now, by the time my brother and I came along in 1997, he was “real tired,” as my brother once said, which is what he thought the word “retired,” meant. Big Ken loved spending time with us. He would sit patiently outside his Spanish Fort, Alabama home while I pretended to take his “order” as a young boy. He played baseball with us in the backyard for hours on end without complaining one bit. Again, he loved his family.

In the early 2000’s circa 2002, he built my brother and I a bridge in front of his home. A bridge that still stands some 20 years after it was built.

We spent time with him on picnics at Fort Toulouse in my hometown of Wetumpka, Alabama when he and my grandmother would come to visit and I can’t remember a time when the trunk of his Crown Victoria wasn’t slammed full with toys for us both.

Until we meet again, Big Ken. Hold it down with the Lord and rest assured, your memory will remain alive until I take my last earthly breath and join you in the greatest Kingdom known to man. You took what you had, did what you could, provided us with memories that we’ll never forget, and for that we’ll always be thankful. I love you.

by Braxton Parmer

Longtime Braves Public Address Announcer, Casey Motter, Passes Away

This afternoon at about 12:15 p.m., I got the notification that I thought I would never have to get. The Atlanta Braves public address announcer, Casey Motter, passed away early Thursday morning in his sleep. 

Casey Motter got his start in broadcasting announcing youth football and baseball games in nearby Peachtree City, Georgia, where he would often bring his own sound system and music. 

His big break came on one November night in 2006, when the Braves assistant general manager, Frank Wren was blown away by the talent that Casey possessed. Frank videoed the youth football game that Casey was announcing and turned it into an invitation to try out for the Braves PA spot. 

Casey, a Smyrna, Georgia native and avid Braves fan, made the most of the opportunity, ultimately winning the job over a dozen other finalists with professional experience. 

The voice of Casey Motter, is one that will always hold a special place in my heart. The way he delivered himself during games. The enthusiasm he showed for his Braves will now and forever remain unmatched. I looked forward to one day being able to work alongside Casey in the Braves booth. In fact, he’s the one whom I model my deliverance after. There won’t ever be another Casey Motter.

My heart goes out to the entire Motter family at this time. Rest In Peace, my friend, save me a seat in the greatest booth of them all!

(Ballpark DJ)
by Braxton Parmer

The Little Things in Life: Landon McGregor’s home run

Yesterday seemed like a normal day, little did I know several hours later, I would have the distinct honor and privilege of meeting and calling the home run for one of the most inspirational kids that I’ve ever met.

Meet Landon McGregor, Landon has Down syndrome and is the bat boy for Alex City Middle School’s baseball team. He has an infectious personality with a smile that will undoubtedly light up a room.

Prior to the first game of the doubleheader, our head coach came up to me and explained the situation to me. He told me to play it up, which I gladly agreed to do under the circumstances.

To lead off the doubleheader, Landon happily walked up to the plate bat in hand. It wasn’t long before Landon hit the ball and was rounding the bases with a huge smile on his face. His trip around the bases was ended with a slide at home plate and kids surrounding him congratulating him on his big hit.

Little did Landon know, his big moment taught me one important thing, the little things in life are really all that matters.

Congratulations, Landon!

by Braxton Parmer

An Open Letter to Freddie Freeman

Dear Freddie Freeman, for 15 years, 11 of those spent in the big leagues with the Atlanta Braves, you gave all of Braves Country more than we could ever repay you for.

You’ve been our shoulder to cry on during the down years, you’ve celebrated with us in the high years. Despite the ebbs and flows of the years in between your first year here in Atlanta and your last, you stuck it out.

You said you were blessed to be a part of organization, when in fact, we were blessed to have you and your amazing family at our side through the rollercoaster that you ride alongside us for 11 years of big league service, 15 counting your time in the minors.

Thank you for providing us with so many memories, from the home run hugs, to the last out of the 2021 World Series. You did it all.

To Chelsea, thank you for sacrificing so much time with your husband for the betterment of this organization. Freddie is a sensational man who has left an incredible impact on the lives of those of us who are fortunate enough to call ourselves Braves fans. He’s been with for a decade and a half and you have been right there with him.

To Charlie, Brandon, and Maximus Freeman, thank you for sharing your dad with us. Thank you, Charlie for the unconditional love that you’ve shown us the past few years. To Brandon and Maximus, your story impacted us all and brought us all to tears.

Freddie, again, my brother, thank you for sharing your family, your athletic ability, and your story with us all for 15 years. You my friend, are the epitome of what it means to be an Atlanta Brave.

Thanks for everything, until our paths cross again, so long my friend, I wish you and your family nothing but the best.

by Braxton Parmer

Five More Minutes: In Loving Memory of Jody Marie Sanford

We’ve all got that one friend, or even multiple friends, that we feel are immortal. The kind of friends that have been with us through all heartbreak and the joys of life. The highs, lows, and everything included in this rollercoaster ride called life.

I’ve got several friends of that variety, but the one that’s been with me the longest is now at the Right Hand of God.

In fact, eight years ago today, she was called to her eternal home by God. On February 2, 2014, the one that I still consider to be the sister that I never had took her last breath and began that Heavenly journey that she has been on for eight years.

I can only imagine what she has seen over the last eight years in Heaven. I was so blessed to have been able to share 16 years of my life, her entire life, with her.

Although the time we shared together was far too short, we shared a lifetime worth of memories that I’m forever grateful for. Happy memories, sad memories, and everything in between.

By now, you’re probably thinking we had a perfect friendship. But believe me, there were multiple times in those 16 years that we got on each other’s last nerve.

But we never left each other’s side. She got on my nerves some, but I know that I got on her nerves far more than she got on mine.

How do I know that I got on her nerves? Well, if you knew Jody, you know about that side-eyed straight-faced look she’d give. Every time she gave me that look I’d playfully say “What is it Jody? What’s wrong?”

All while continuing to do what got on her nerves, not because I enjoyed getting the side-eyed, straight-faced treatment, but because I knew that it would only be a matter of seconds before she busted out laughing saying “You’re so stupid. You know that gets on my last nerve.” To which I’d pause and say “Yeah, I know. You want me to do it again?” And she’d playfully say, “No, you idiot.”

I’m forever grateful for the lifetime worth of memories that the two of us shared. From the trips to Mardi Gras in Mobile, to spending the summers at the city baseball fields, and everything in between.

On February 2, 2014, I was in the back of the house on the computer at about 4:30 p.m., when mom came running into the room and headed for her closet.

I wondered what she was doing so I asked “What are you doing?” She replied hurriedly “It’s Jody!” I was so confused at this point.

What has she done now? Was it something great, was she in trouble? What was going on? I was completely lost as to what was happening. The next minute my brother comes into the room and takes my phone.

After about two hours, the house phone rings and it’s mom. I pick it up, completely unprepared for what was about to be said on the other end. “Hello?” I said expecting just a normal answer to what was occurring.

I could hear people crying on the other end. Mom replied “Jody’s gone.” I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. It had to be a prank right?? This just wasn’t possible. I slowly hung the phone up after mom said that she’d be home in a little while.

February 5, 2014 rolls around, the day of the visitation, or viewing as some people refer to it and by this time I had already accepted the role as pallbearer. A role that I wasn’t too sure about taking on, but I knew that she wouldn’t want it any other way.

After all, I’d been with her for her whole life, why not carry her one last time? I wasn’t sure about taking on this responsibility, but I would be doing it the next day at the funeral.

But now, it was time to face my worst nightmare. I entered Thelma Baptist Church, which is about a mile from my house, through the back side door, where I was met by her entire family.

I didn’t know if I had the strength to face what I was going to have to face whether I wanted or not, so her mom and dad escorted me to the sanctuary where the casket was located and her brother and sister walked behind me.

I entered the sanctuary and made a right turn. There it was. There she was. My best friend’s lifeless body laying in a casket. I broke down. I walked up to the casket, leaned down and whispered “You’re safe with me.”

I got there early and sat about mid-ways down the isle. Before long what seemed like a thousand people were showing up in droves to pay their final earthly respects to not only my best friend, but also my very first friend.

The next morning, the funeral was supposed to start at 9 a.m., so I got there around 8 a.m, went inside the sanctuary, sat right in front of the casket and prayed for the strength to get through the day. I can confidently say that I had never heard of an entire school shutting down for a funeral, that is until this one of course.

Afterwards, I looked up and point to the sky and was met with hundreds of hugs from mutual friends that the two of us share. During the funeral the preacher said “Sixteen years…too short some might say, but if it’s a life that was lived and loved, was it really too short?” Those words will always stick close to my heart

That girl loved life. She loved her family and friends, but most importantly, she loved God. She loved hard. You never left her company with the question of “Does Jody love me?” Because she was going to make sure you knew the answer to that question. But if you messed up, or she didn’t like what you did, or how you did it, she was going to give you an earful about it.

She also was a fighter. She fought for those she loved and in turn those of us whom she loved are left here to defend her name and to keep her memory alive.

She stood up for what and who she believed in and you never had to question her loyalty. It was evident as soon as you met her.

As the funeral ended, the funeral director asked the congregation to rise and prepared the casket to be carried out. I stood up, pulled my sunglasses down, even though it was a cloudy day, took a deep breath and grabbed the casket with my right arm.

Once we were out of the church, we loaded the casket into the back of the hearse and I leaned down saying in between tears “This isn’t the end.”

Afterwards I was met with more hugs and words of encouragement to get me through this rough time. At the graveside, I lifted my sunglasses and wiped my eyes with a tissue. Then I was met by more mutual friends that needed a shoulder to cry on, but little did they know, I needed that shoulder to cry on also.

Tell your family and friends you love them, you never know when you’ll see them for the last time. I’d give the world to be able to spend five more minutes with my best friend. Rest In Peace, angel. You are loved and missed more than you will ever know.

Happy eight years, angel. I love you and I’ll see you again one day soon. Until we pick up where we left off, do me a favor and give Heaven some hell.

by Braxton Parmer

Hank Aaron: A Man Character, Integrity, Tenacity, and Fortitude

There are no words to adequately describe the man that was Henry Louis “Hank” Aaron. I don’t say that lightly. You see, it was nearly a year ago, that we lost a great man, a noble man, a man of the highest character, integrity, tenacity, and fortitude.

When Hank Aaron, a black man from Mobile, Alabama, passed away on January 22, 2021, we lost a man whom, so bravely stood face-to-face with social injustice in the Deep South in the 1950s and 60s.

We lost a legend, but Hank Aaron didn’t care about his statistics, his fame, or what people thought of his career, he was more concerned with seeing that people were treated with the same amount of respect. He was an advocate, a servant, a legend, and an icon in every sense of his being.

He was and is highly revered in the baseball world, just as he deserves to be. Now, I never had the distinct honor of talking to Mr. Aaron during his 86 years of life here on Earth, but from what I’ve read in articles and books, he never wanted to discuss his historic 23-year Major League Baseball career that saw him break Babe Ruth’s long-standing record of 714 home runs by sending a ball into the left-center field bullpen at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium at 9:07 p.m., eastern time on April 8, 1974.

He was more concerned with discussing how you were, discussing your needs, and wants. He never was self-centered at all. Hall of Fame third baseman, Chipper Jones once said “When Mr. Aaron walked into a room, the crowd got quiet, when he spoke, you listened. But when he made himself available for conversation, you approached him, shook his massive hand, and heeded any advice he offered.”

The baseball world definitely hasn’t been the same since Henry Louis “Hank” Aaron passed away just shy of a year ago because we’ve all felt the void that the absence of such a noble human has left in our hearts. I never got the chance to speak with Mr. Aaron here on Earth, but when my name is called one day to head to that big baseball stadium made of gold in Heaven, you can rest assured that I will approach Mr. Aaron and tell him just how much he means to not only me but to the baseball world in general.

Afterwards, if Mr. Aaron has any advice on how to hit 755 home runs, I will sit back and enjoy his company. Rest In Peace, Hammer. I l love you, brother.

Source (USA Today)
by Braxton Parmer

For His Glory: 24 Years of Defying Odds

In the beginning of my life, it wasn’t easy for me. In fact, things were a bit rocky for me. At six weeks old, I was diagnosed with mild cerebral palsy.

After that, it was discovered that I had developed gangrene and doctors and nurses in Birmingham, Alabama’s Children’s Hospital of Alabama, where I spent most of my infancy, gave me little to no chance of living outside of the four walls of that cold, dark hospital.

I was clinging to life at this point. Things weren’t looking great. In fact, they weren’t looking good at all. A short time after that, my small intestines ruptured and I had suffered a stroke and multiple surgeries.

The medical staff at the hospital had all but thrown in the towel on my life, when little did they know that I was just getting started. it’s so hard for me to believe that on Sunday, December 12, 2021, I will celebrate my 24th year of life on this Earth. It seems like just yesterday that I was in and out of hospitals almost every day having some sort of surgery.

I’ve also suffered from seizures in the past, but thankfully I have been seizure-free for more than eight years. 

I don’t share this story as a pity on me, nor do I share it for sympathy or attention. Simply put, I’m sharing my testimony to tell you that you never know what people are going through in their lives. Often times, they don’t talk about it because it’s too tender of a subject for some.

As for me, I’ll gladly open up and share my testimony with anybody at any time in any place because I hope my story leads people to have a greater relationship with God. If it weren’t for His Glory, I wouldn’t be here right now. But thankfully, He had greater plans for me.

People are often battling things that we know nothing about. Be kind and always live for His Glory.

God Bless,

Braxton Parmer.