It rained. And rained. But, like real baseball fans, they stayed. They ate a ridiculous number of peanuts, sang the national anthem, and Matt narrated every single play to Gus. Gus was completely riveted and was able to stay until the top of the 5th when a crazy homerun ball smashed into the metal bleachers in their section, scaring the crackerjacks out of Gus. Despite this, Gus has talked loud and long about his game, about the "homerun ball that went BOOM" and the man who yells "PEAnuts, POPcorn, and CRACKERjacks" and about "foul balls, steee-rikes" and runners who are "SUUUH-afe!" It's a love story for the ages, these dudes and baseball.
2 comments:
Oh, Mary Ann! I love it! I get tear-eyed just reading about those two, and the narative from Gus when he got home!. What an awesome father-son tradition they're starting!
It's funny, Nick and I were just talking recently about the part baseball played in our childhoods. I remember: watching Royals games on tv and describing the plays into my little purple tape recorder; making up rhymes about my favorite players (go Frank, go Frank White, hit that ball right out of sight); trading baseball cards with my second grade boyfriend; and being heartbroken that I was not allowed to skip school to attend the 1985 World Series victory parade in downtown KC. There's just something about baseball that captures a child's imagination like nothing else. There's the awesomely bad food, the thrill of being out late at night games, the sense that a kind of righteous combat is taking place, and those magical home run moments, when everyone jumps to their feet and starts screaming their lungs out. This is why I always defend baseball, even in the face of steroids and perpetually losing teams. I think baseball is a pure and beautiful thing for kids. And that goes double for when you're sharing it with your daddy! Go go Gus and Matt! :D
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