Monday, April 27, 2009

My Daughter the T-Ball Prodigy

As I may have mentioned in an earlier post (albeit through a form of Japanese poetry), it is now baseball season. Baseball and I have a contentious relationship, I must admit. It first seduced me way back in the day when Scott and I moved to Saint Louis, and I went to my first Cardinals game. I fell in love with the rag tag team of players, the excitement of the crowd, and I'm not ashamed to admit, the stadium nacho's.

I got so attached, I learned all the players' names. And their positions. And the little individualized clips of music they'd play as each player came up to bat. When that first season was over, I was sad. And I looked forward to the next season when I would see all my Cardinal buddies again.

Except I didn't realize something about baseball. The harsh reality is that half the team gets traded every season, and you have a whole new crop of players every year. I felt so used, so abandoned. How could my favorite little outfielder now play for the Cubbies, the Cardinals' arch-nemesis?? And how could that cute catcher guy have moved all the way out to San Francisco to play for the Giants?? Have they no sense of decency?? Does commitment mean NOTHING anymore?? Despite Scott's best efforts to convince me otherwise, baseball has never been the same for me since that first summer of innocent love.

The jury is still out on whether or not Ashley, Aidan and Owen will be the baseball fans that I tried and failed to be. Nevertheless, in honor of the start of baseball season, I'm reposting below an entry that I posted last year in my private journal describing Ashley's foray into the sport we all love and know as T-ball. Back then, it didn't look promising... Who knows what this spring will bring?

Originally written in April 2008:

One thing you all may not know about my husband is that he is a SERIOUS baseball fan. He often likes to tell me a little story about how baseball is really a chess game...

Scott: Baby, have I ever told you about how baseball is really a game of chess?

Me: Yes, baseball is chess, I got it.

Scott: But seriously, it's so fascinating because...

Me: (at this point my brain goes into "La La La" mode)

Scott: Blah blah blah....chess...blah blah blah blah...chess.

Me: Yes, I love baseball. I love chess. Baseball is chess. Can I go now?

He looooooooooooves baseball. Specifically, he loves the St. Louis Cardinals. So much so that the one condition he placed on us moving back to Nebraska was that he could order the Major League Baseball channel on digital cable so he would still have access to every.single St. Louis Cardinals game.

Now I, on the other hand, am not a sports person. I do not like to play them or watch them. I am not very coordinated, do not like to perspire, and generally do not like being outdoors when the temperature is greater than 75 degrees. I don't look good in sneakers, I don't like being chased around and I don't like balls flying around in the air because they tend to hit me in the head. I only watch the SuperBowl for the commercials, and it irritates me that March Madness extends into April.

So my husband and I are perfectly matched, except for this sports issue. I can't tell you how many times he has tried to get me to join a co-ed softball or volleyball league, to which I respond every single time "Do you even know me at all??"

So imagine Scott's delight when it becomes apparent that Miss Ashley Belle is a tomboy. Does she want to wear dresses, watch princess movies, or play with dolls and purses, despite my best efforts?? Absolutely not. She would much rather be outside in jeans rolling around in the mud, kicking a ball, climbing fences, etc. So Scott has had high hopes for his little Ashley Belle, that she would be as much of a baseball fan as he is.

That is, until we bought her a T-Ball set.

The T-Ball set has sat unopened in our garage for months, dusty from the winter, just waiting for the first signs of spring so that it could be busted open and turn our little daughter into a T-Ball prodigy. So we finally brought it out on Sunday and set it up in the backyard, so Scott could begin teaching her all the chess-like aspects of baseball he'd been wasting on his unappreciate wife for all this time...

"Okay, Ashley....this is how you do it...You SWING the bat and HIT the ball!!!"

Orrrr, you could just tap it very, very gently.

Orrrr, you could hit it like a pool cue.

Orrr, you could use a big beach ball instead...

Orrr, you could just take the ball and bat into your playset...

And throw the bat down the slide...

And then slide down after it. Yeah, that's much more fun!!!

Poor Scott. Well, at least she has her baseball card pose down pat...maybe she's girlier than I thought she was. ;-)

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