1 Mother 2 Another

My nephew plays baseball, and over the
weekend we took our girls to see him play; we’ve been to a
few minor league baseball games and the girls both loved it, so we
figured seeing a cousin on a high school team would be a real
treat.


As you probably know, we don’t play a lot of sports around
here. I have nothing against them in theory; I simply don’t
have a lot of experience with them. And since the girls have grown
up (thus far) watching me teach acting or dance, that’s
understandably where they’re the most comfortable. Having
said that, though, the girls love watching football with Daddy and
playing football with friends; both enjoyed their first hockey game
recently, and both enjoy being outside and active in general. I
figured they’d fit right in with the Saturday morning sports
crowd.


Not so much.

My nephew plays left field in addition to
being a relief pitcher; when Maddie saw him so far back she said,
“Hey, why is he so far back on the stage?” We explained
his position – and that it’s not actually a stage
– and she settled in to watch the game.


The rest of our time was more of the same: Maddie wondering every
time the teams changed the field if “the act was over”
or not. I have to say, this has never happened before at a baseball
game, but then again, both girls are older now and are actually
watching more of the game rather than, say, begging for cotton
candy, playing “house” under the bleacher seats, or
screaming for “our” team whenever they hear everyone
else screaming. So in a way, this is progress, right?


My nephew was finally brought in as a pitcher towards the end of
the game, and as he began to throw his first pitch Cora screamed,
“Go Andrew! You can do it! Good job!” right as he was
throwing. Did I mention we were sitting just behind home plate,
right in his line of sight?


As the rest of my nephew’s family tried hard not to give Cora
dirty looks for throwing him off, Maddie quietly explained things
to Cora. “You see Cora, you can’t talk to him while
he’s onstage. And he can’t wave or say hi or show that
he knows you – he can’t talk to the audience at
all.”


Something like that.


As my nephew got warmed up the pitches came faster and more surely.
After a very nice curve ball of a strike, Maddie couldn’t
contain herself any longer. She jumped up and yelled,
“Bravo!”


We’re gonna work on it, I promise.