Farewell to the Peanut Gallery

Look, I know that when a co-worker gets a job somewhere else, I'm not necessarily losing a friend. A friend is a friend no matter where they are and the best ones are those with whom you can reconnect after months, or even years, and it feels like no time has passed.

But at 5:01 pm on Thursday, September 15, I will be losing a truly great friend and teammate. Not losing as in death, Lord forbid, but losing out on the chance to see her every day. That's the worst part when a colleague to whom you are close gets a new job; it's just not the same when communication is mostly limited to e-mails and texts. That's why I'm thrilled that Nina Tarantino has a new job but just sad that I won't be seeing her every day.

I first met Nina when I was still an usher with the Padres and I remember that the two people who would always say hi to me were she and her Compadres Club partner, Harrison Boyd. As someone aspiring to move from the gameday staff to the front office, I just appreciated that they would always take time from their busy duties to chat with me and other ushers.

When I was promoted into the office in 2006, I couldn't believe my good fortune that those two friendly people, Nina and Harrison, were in offices next to mine. It made the often intimidating transition much easier. I came to learn that Neen had joined the Padres as a high schooler, and stayed through college at SDSU, and that with her brother JoJo as a bat boy, Padres Baseball was truly a family affair.

Now, people often ask, "Why the heck do you and Nina always call each other 'Peanut'?"  Oh, thank you for asking <tilts head slightly>.

In those first few months in the spring of 2006, Nina and I would habitually hear each other's conversations, jokes, and such - the hallway was super-narrow - and blurt out our own thoughts and responses. Sure it was eavesdropping but it was funny and good-natured. One day I was teasing her about something, I don't know what, and she says, "That's enough out of you, Peanut Gallery!"  So henceforward we just called each other Peanut.

(One day I even found a Snickers wrapper that proclaimed we are all residents of "Peanutopolis". I left it on her desk and when she returned, could hear her famous, "Enh!! Oh boy.")

Well, in every workplace, there are some people who remain as strictly colleagues, others become good friends, and others become like a sibling to you. Peanut became like a sister to me.

She yelled at me when I spent too much money on girls I liked. She would schedule her workouts so she could help me with my prosthetics and weight machines in the weight room. When I walked into the lunchroom, she was the first one to stand up to help me heat up my meal. She encouraged me to join her in trying the San Diego Rock 'n' Roll Marathon.

And just like a sister, she was uber-protective. I know that whenever I'm in public, people might naturally stare at my arms. I'm cool with it. Not Peanut. I've seen her, after our crew once left Woodstock Pizza, walk back in and go up to two grown men and say, "What, you've never seen a guy with two hooks before? Do I need to punch each of you in the face?"  True story <raises palm>.

I just knew wherever our crew would go, Nina would have my back.

And at the Padres, where your friends become your family, she was the glue, she was the anchor. From 2006 - 2011, she helped keep us all together, through good times and bad.

When I was blessed to accomplish my dream of publishing my first book - Swinging for the Fences, available on http://www.tatepublishing.com/; that's Swinging for the Fences, available on http://www.tatepublishing.com/ - Peanut was the first person to go online and buy a copy. She then told all her contacts about it and propped up my book on her desk so visitors would ask about it. For three years!

We've had incredible memories together. Swigging champagne in a party limo in Vegas. Spraying bottles of bubbly on the sidewalks of Little Italy on New Year's Eve. Jumping up and down on rickety bleachers at Aztecs basketball games. Clinking beer bottles at Shore Club. Throwing combined Gemini birthday parties at Club Altitude. Laughing when she came to Karen Madden's annual famous Halloween party dressed as a bumble bee and crying out, in her high-pitched voice, "Why can't I get a buzz?!  Ha!! A buzz!"  Ok, maybe you had to be there.

But you can appreciate how we would reference LaDanian Tomlinson's way of saying "strength" as "screnf".

Or how we lamented when the Pads lost the division by one game in 2007 and 2010.

Or how we've been there for each other through personal adversity.

Or how we cried together at our teammate Denny Russell's funeral.

Forgive me if this is blatantly corny. Like I said, I know our friendship's not ending, and it never will. But when someone leaves your workplace, you don't see them every day and it's different. And I am really going to miss seeing Nina "Peanut" Tarantino - and her mom Jaye Bird and father Tanktop Tiny - as much as I do now.

She is a sister and a true friend.

What's the matter with you, you've never seen a man get mushy before? Do I need to punch you in the face?