How many Chipper puns should I try to make for this title?

I caught wind on Twitter that Chipper Jones is retiring. I haven’t kept up very much with Chipper or baseball in general for many years, but back in seventh or eighth grade, I fell hard for Chipper. I just happened to see his face flit across the TV during the game and I was instantly in love. He had that easy boyish grin that always hooks me. I watched the game to find out his name and from then on did everything I could to find out every morsel about his life. This was pre-internet so it wasn’t easy, but I was very devoted. I watched every game that I could catch on television and recorded them, even if I had watched them live. I clipped stories from the newspaper that mentioned him, and clipped his box score if he’d had a good game. I watched SportsCenter for highlights of the games to catch a glimpse of him. I amassed lots of Chipper and Braves memorabilia — glossy photos, pennants, keychains, hats, shirts, magazines. I drew rudimentary portraits of Chipper and hung them on my wall. I was his biggest fan.

Our eighth grade class took a trip to Atlanta to a Braves game (I don’t remember why now; I will have to consult my diary) and I was sort of convinced in that eighth-grade way of thinking that I was going to be able to meet Chipper Jones and he was going to fall for me despite my braces and my being 14 freaking years old. Turns out our seats were on the third-base line (yay!) but we were way out in the outfield. Not even within yelling distance of Chipper. (Now I don’t remember anything about the game except the extremely drunk GROWN-ASS dude who put his arm around me and had people take our picture. My teacher, Mrs. Yeiser, tried to confiscate the roll of film, heh. She did not get it. Now where is that dang picture?!)

So, I didn’t meet and snag Chipper. But I kept hope alive.

I remember being so upset that Hideo Nomo won rookie of the year that year instead of Chipper. And now where is Hideo Nomo? HE DON’T PLAY BALL NOMO. I’m sorry. But the snub stung and may have fucked up my head a little bit.

I really got a reality smack across the face during a game one day many months into my crush, when the camera panned over some big-haired lady in the audience. She was wearing a cowboy hat and she was very blonde. The announcer mentioned that this was Mrs. Chipper Jones and my heart fell out of my chest with a wet thud. Wait, he was MARRIED?! To a lady wearing a COWBOY HAT?! And so that day I began mopping up my messy affections for the third baseman from Marietta, Ga., realizing they were a pipe dream. Also I probably had some other dude I was crushing on at the time so I had to reserve my energy and pour it directly into that ridiculousness.

So, fare well in your retirement, Chipper. I’ll always have fond memories of your prickly little goatee and your chewing-tobacco habit. You know, I always thought that was super gross but I was going to make an exception just for you.