They kinda go together like peas and carrots. Or Peanuts and Cracker Jacks.
Since its inception, baseball has been bringing dads and their offspring together- from playing catch in the backyard, to coaching Little League games, to hanging out in ball parks munching on hot dogs and singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game.
As it happened, we ended up beside two fathers whose three young sons had commandeered the row behind us. Ranging in ages from 5ish to 8ish, these three Wild Things wasted no time in hijacking our attention from the action on the field.
"Let's each count down to see when the pitcher throws the ball," exclaimed one of the kids. "We'll see who gets the closest. Get it?"
I didn't. Neither did the other two kids.
(I think anyway. It's possible they did. Kids have their own odd way of getting other kids weird brain children).
"Five...four....three....two...one....one....one and three quarters....one and a quarter....ZERO".
The pitcher threw the ball about two seconds later. Oops.
The counting game ended about as quickly as it started when a run-down turned into a stare down between the base runner and the short stop.
"FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!" enthusiastically chanted the boys.
"HEY," said dad number one. "Stop being annoying."
Bursting into giggles, Leah and I gave up the pretense of following the game and focused our full attention on the shenanigans behind us. I also decided then and there I had to include them in a blog post.
During a half inning break, I scurried over to the dads.
"Hi! I write a sports blog and I was planning on doing a piece on this game," I said. "Your children have been really entertaining."
(Dad 1 and Dad 2 exchanged shaky chuckles and glances in a "oh good lord our children have been causing a scene and strangers have noticed" sort of way.)
"Can I have permission to use them in my blog? I promise I won't use their names."
With another quick glance, the dads agreed. As I asked the boys to pose for a picture, I nonchalantly questioned if the group was out for some sort of Father's Day celebration.
"No. It's BOYS NIGHT OUT," said Future SNLer boy, complete with gangsta-like hand gestures that are only cute and funny for children that age.
Leah and I were smitten.
"Is it wrong I already have a favorite?" Leah whispered to me.
 |
| Our New Friends |
Ummm, probably.
Back on the field, a player from the opposing team hit a grand slam to bust the scoreless game wide open. This SHOULD have been the catalyst to pulling our attention back to what we actually came to do, which was watch a baseball game.
However, it was right around that time that we heard wild laughter coming from our Wild Things, closely followed by "Hey Dad! Look, it's the Millennium Falcon!".
It was a nacho chip with a bite taken out of it.
And the dads laughed just as hard as the boys.
The Wild Things on the field didn't end up winning the game. But watching our youngster Wild Things interact with each other and their fathers for nine innings was well worth the price of the admission.
Actually, the whole thing was pretty priceless.
***********************************************************
Have any nostalgic Father's Day sporting memories? Share them with me!
Also, Happy Father's Day to the two great dads I have in my life!
3 comments:
"Let's each count down to see when the pitcher throws the ball," exclaimed one of the kids. "We'll see who gets the closest. Get it?"....awesome. I do totally get it :)
What a great time it sounds like you guys had!
love, love, love. and i'm still laughing. they come close to being the highlight of the weekend.
They totally had me at 'Millenium Falcon.' Any kid who likes Star Wars is OK in my book.
Post a Comment