Turns out there is crying in baseball

Top of the 1st: My dad, a baseball obsessive, begins hassling me in January about how we should sign our kids up for baseball. I, a rule-following COVID type, do not appreciate his suggesting to us that we mix our kids up in a group situation, and also, I have other shit to do besides worry about sports.

Bottom of the 1st: Whenever I hear about other parents who kept their kids in indoor sports during COVID I feel a mixture of 👀 (over the risk), 👀 again (over these parents’ fealty to children’s sports) and jealousy (over their kids having something to do during COVID.

Top of the 2nd: I decide to sign the kids up after all because the risk of germ swapping seems minimal, especially since it’s outdoors, all the kids had to bring their own equipment, plus our closest parent friends whose boys are in our kids’ cohorts are enrolling theirs and they seem responsible.

Bottom of the 2nd: I decide not to tell my dad about it for a few days so as not to let him think I signed the boys up because of him (my mom’s suggestion 🧙‍♀️)

Top of the 3rd: The moment I tell him we signed the boys up Dad says we should practice throwing and catching. It’s our first day of spring break and we’re out of town in a rental house.

Bottom of the 3rd: While on spring break I start fretting about my older son possibly having a bad time in baseball. Unlike his younger 5-year-old brother he is not very competitive and doesn’t like sports when yelling is involved.

Top of the 4th: I am mad at myself for worrying about such a trifling thing when we are still in a pandemic and there are children getting shot to death in America.

Bottom of the 4th: I read this essay by Keith Gessen about dads and why they care if their sons don’t care about sports as much as they do.

Top of the 5th: I write his wife, Emily Gould, a word vomity email saying I appreciated the essay and how I was the boy in my family re: sports since my brother basically rejected team sports, and that I appreciate that my husband is not a big sporto so my boys will at least grow up seeing that there are various ways to be a boy.

I then read this Tweet that Emily had posted before I wrote her:

(I write to apologize and she says lol nbd.)

Bottom of the 5th: The boys and I start playing baseball in the yard and at the park. The kids are both pretty good and we have fun! I remember how much I like playing catch with them. Once last year I grabbed something as it fell off a table and someone complimented me on my reflexes and I credited it to playing catch with my family.

Top of the 6th: Hard baseballs are hard as shit. Like even a ground ball that takes a little hop will give you a good bruise on your shin.

Bottom of the 6th: My five year old starts tee ball. A lot of the kids on his team are still doing things like rolling around on the ground and picking up the rope baseline and playing with it.

Top of the 7th: The day before their first game the kindergarten tee ball kids are given uniforms and they’re so excited. “Are you guys ready for the big game?” their coach asks. My son’s little friend says to no one in particular, “I’m really excited for the big game!” “Me too! I’m also really excited for the big game!” my five-year-old says. 😭

7th inning stretch: my favorite clip ever from a MLB game: