Most of the people reading this blog never knew William "Bill" Homa, my Pappa, but you all have heard of the drama, but not what happened.
My Pappa was a great man, and whomever the person, he always held the utmost respect for them. Any girl with a bat bag in hand, batting glove, and mitt nearby was always one of his favorite sights, and most of these girls are unofficial granddaughters to him. He was always on a field somewhere, whether it be running the field crews at the Ohio Invasion Classics, working for Joey and the Akron Racers Pro Fastpitch Team, setting up the field for East High School Orientals, or just on a set of bleachers somewhere watching his girls playing the game. When I say his girls, I do not just mean me and my sister. I mean every teammate we have ever had, and any girl who has a love for the game in her heart. He volunteered for the Racers every chance he got, and he worked hard everyday of his life. Not only did he do all of that for softball, but he made sure to be at every event any of his grandchildren ever had, and I mean every event for all of us.
He died on June 19th of 2009 at the Akron Slam Series I, after working on the fields all day. I was at home when we got the call from Joey, I was about to head to work. My dad's phone rang, and Joey was on the other end. I picked up, as the parentals were outside, and could tell that something was wrong. I ran outside and to the hot tub to where my parents were. It only took them five seconds to get out of the tub, and inside the house. Maybe a minute more to change and run out the door. My Pappa was announced dead about half an hour later. He had collapsed next to his truck, as he had been putting his rakes and liner away, and the next thing we knew he was gone. My dad always says that when we Homa's go, we go, there is no holding on, no lingering, its just drop dead. The sad thing is that he is right. Every Homa has been a heart attack, and gone within the hour that it happened. My Pappa had been the only one taking care of four fields, and we are all greatful to the team who found him, and called 911. We are even more thankful to God that the team who found him is the one who won the first annual Bill Homa Memorial Tournament last year.
This year, Douche has struck again, and with rumors, has almost had the Akron Racers Organization change the name of the tournament. That is what is going on, and what has me so distressed at the moment. We know that it won't happen, but the fact that a member of my so called family, my flesh and blood, would do that, is unforgivable. He even spread a rumor about my own father, whom he doesn't even speak too. I will never call him family again, he has no right to that word, and has no right to be know as a Homa. Quite honestly, I really want to drive out to Jackson and strangle him myself, but that would be counterproductive.
Here is the thing, my Pappa loved the game we play. He loved watching anyone play, and even offered up a criticism or a piece of advice to any player willing to listen. He caught my sister and I when dad was out of town and we had pitching or batting lessons. He worked on multiple fields and if a person had a line that was even slightly crooked, the entire field would be redone. He befriended umpires, coaches, and players alike. And it is those players whom he always kept in his heart when he watched them play. I am proud to wear my Pappa's ashes in a sliver softball around my neck at every game, practice, and when I am just getting my equipment out for rehab. I wear his name on a sweat band on my right arm when I am at third base, and I am proud to be his granddaughter. I am proud to know all these people who support everything we do because we are Bill Homa's granddaughters and we were brought up right. I am proud to have had 18 and a half years with him, and I am proud to be playing college ball, because I know that he is watching somewhere out there. Hell, he probably is running a softball field in the sky somewhere knowing him. I play for him, and I am proud of that.
http://www.game-ex.com/vb3/showthread.php?t=36676&highlight=Bill+Homa+Memorial
Playing with his voice in my head always,
Laurel Lee
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