One of the twins decided that she is going to play softball this year instead of following her older sister into cheer-leading. I have quietly nudged her in this direction as she is athletic of build and is more suited to the diamond than to the pyramid.
So, today we went to a national sports chain and bought some gear. She got cleats, batting gloves, a bat, balls, headbands, bag, and a leather fielder’s glove that fits her hand, she was so proud carrying all of that out of the store.. I bought a larger leather fielder’s glove for me that she will use as she grows (hey, bonus, already broken in for her). The kid is outfitted. We then all went and had a great pizza at our favorite place and talked of what to plant in the garden.
When we got home late and they insisted that they weren’t tired,and then promptly crashed out on the couches.
Quietly, so as not to wake any of the echoes, I went into the attic and retrieved my long forgotten gloves, one from HS and one from little league. Going up to gather these relics reminded me that my impact on baseball was minimal, I was aggressive base running, very solid hitting, and an accurate fastball (even at little league). There are twelve stitches on my right elbow where eventually the ulnar nerve had to be released and one of the tendons shaved to relieve the repetitive damage of faster and faster pitched balls. I didn’t have much of a curve, I’d just throw at your head if you got near my plate and put you in fear then throw either away or at your ribs. All of this followed me up the steps…then I had the gloves in my hand. I hadn’t seen them in 15 years; put up and forgotten in lanolin and linseed waiting for the next ball player. Waiting for the next son to throw lighting and strike fear in the batters.
I have all girls. Strong Girls. I prayed for all our babies to be healthy and they were, i didn’t care the sex. Now they are starting to come into their own.
All leather fielding gloves need to be conditioned before play. So, i took my artifacts and the two new leathers onto the back porch with some linseed oil, lanolin, and twine and balls…prep makes the glove pliable and predictable. It is a process.
I lit a San Lotano Oval and got to work; Great tobacco from Esteli, and a nice tequila as I thought that I would ease into the night. NOPE. One whiff of cigar and linseed and leather and I was instantly transported 40 years back to my childhood’s front porch. No kidding, sucked back like thorough a straw. Grandad smoking a cigar, Dad showing me how to rub oil into the glove…discussions on how to run the bases…KDKA Lanny Frattare for play by play in the background, Grampy telling me to always throw inside and hard if the batter dared to take the edge.
I had tears, it was good to hear Grampy’s voice in my head.
And So It Continues.
PLAY BALL!
