By Cassidy Dover: "Little Old Me?"

This is the first of a series of columns by Cassidy Dover, the wife of a current baseball player who you may or may not know.  You see he's up and down between the Majors and the minors, which is a metaphor for his and Cassidy's marriage.  Cassidy Dover will be writing about her life as a minor league, and sometimes Major League, wife.  You'll find her perspective interesting, her point of view fresh.  And you'll hopefully come to realize that just because her husband wears a uniform for a living, that doesn't mean their lives are complete.

Read Cassidy's column.  You'll be happy you did.

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Hi there.  My name is Cassidy Dover.  Why in the world would you care what I have to say?  You may not.  I never thought you would, to be honest.   Jimmy Scott, who has the same agent as my husband, asked me if I could write a piece for his blog once or twice a month and tell my family’s story or share an antidote or two from our 15 years in the minor leagues with you all.  So sure, why not?

I have listened to some of Jimmy’s other interviews with career minor leaguers and laughed.  I've read his articles and was excited that he was sharing our stories.  Then he told me, “Well you and Vanessa talk all the time and she is always telling me how she couldn’t do what you do.  All the years in the minor leagues - all the crap, not much of the glory.  How you support your husband but not blindly, just totally.  I thought others should hear your story”. 

Really?  Little old me?   Thanks!

So if you  are intrigued, Thank you.  If not, that's okay too.

I want to start at the beginning by saying these are my own perceptions.  I know our life borders are charmed.  I understand all too well the day-to-day issues most of America deals with.  I don’t expect my drama to be all that pressing when compared to the real dramas out there.  But for me and for my family, this is our realty.  Love it or leave it.  I married for “Better or Worse” and so these are our stories.

You may want to know our background.  My husband, Ray Dover, you’ve never heard of him.  You’d never think to.  He may, in my opinion, deserve his own wall in the Baseball Hall of Fame, but they don’t have a minor league area.  Instead our family can rattle off every stat of his career.  We have all his cards from each team he played on over the past 15 years.  You probably don’t have them.  They are in those packs you can buy at the minor league parks in small town USA.  If you live in that city, you love him.  If not, you probably were there on business, or your car broke down.  You had nothing else to do so you went to the minor league game that night.  He may have been playing.  He may have even pitched that night.  You thought, “Wow, that kid’s good' and never thought about my Ray again.

We live in Sauk Centre, Minnesota.   We moved here because housing prices were affordable, the town small, and we could easily make a home here for our family on Ray’s salary.  I grew up in Minneapolis.  Ray was first signed by the Twins after two years of college.  He was in town after draft day.  After the Twins game he went out for dinner with some guys.  I was there with some girls.  I thought he was cute, he thought I was.  We exchanged phone numbers.  After some time calling while he was in Rookie ball we decided he’d come home to my parents' house for the off-season.  The next summer, when it was time for him to play and travel, I wanted to go with him.  My parents said, “No way” and so we got married.  It really did make more sense anyway.  I knew I wanted to be with him and he wanted me there. 

That’s never changed.

If only our trip through Ray’s career had been that straight forward.  But it hasn't been.  In the coming weeks I’ll tell you stories about our time coming up through the league.  Oh, and we’re not with the Twins anymore.  They only kept Ray around for his first 6 years.  I’ll tell you more next week.

I hope you really do find our life as interesting as Jimmy thinks you will.  It's our own little reality show.  And you're welcome to read along.

Cassidy