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Warm sun on your face, a slight breeze through the air, the smell of the earth, and the sound of children playing outside - all of these are cues to the fact that springtime cometh. And along with that brings baseball season. The only professional sports season that I truly enjoy, and it arrives none too soon. After watching the winter Olympics for two weeks, it sparked a fire in me that has lain dormant for the duration of the winter. I don't care for basketball in the least bit, and hockey is lost on me. But baseball. A whole other ballgame, so to speak.
I grew up in a baseball family - I traveled around during the spring and summertime to watch my brother J play in little league, Babe Ruth, legion, high school, and then college games. My father and father-in-law both played throughout their lives, and still are avid fans today. I hope wee-man follows suit and plays when he gets old enough, and based on his interest in the game already, I don't think it will be a far cry from how his sport-of-choice pans out.
B played ball for a stint when he was younger, too...long story short, his temper did not mesh well with poor calls made by officiating umpires...
This afternoon, CR and I headed over to our local park (after yet another rough day at pre-school - getting better, but we both still ended up crying for our own reasons this morning), and two boys were having a catch. CR plopped himself down in the gravel, and watched them throw the ball back and forth for a good 20 minutes. He was engrossed with every smack of the leather ball against their gloves, and it got me even more excited for the approaching Sox season. Last year we took him to a couple of day games - this year I hope to get him into at least that many (shouldn't be hard to top) if not more.
So bring on the chirping birds, Daylight Savings, and muddy playgrounds...I am ready for my favorite season to begin.
I grew up in a baseball family - I traveled around during the spring and summertime to watch my brother J play in little league, Babe Ruth, legion, high school, and then college games. My father and father-in-law both played throughout their lives, and still are avid fans today. I hope wee-man follows suit and plays when he gets old enough, and based on his interest in the game already, I don't think it will be a far cry from how his sport-of-choice pans out.
B played ball for a stint when he was younger, too...long story short, his temper did not mesh well with poor calls made by officiating umpires...
This afternoon, CR and I headed over to our local park (after yet another rough day at pre-school - getting better, but we both still ended up crying for our own reasons this morning), and two boys were having a catch. CR plopped himself down in the gravel, and watched them throw the ball back and forth for a good 20 minutes. He was engrossed with every smack of the leather ball against their gloves, and it got me even more excited for the approaching Sox season. Last year we took him to a couple of day games - this year I hope to get him into at least that many (shouldn't be hard to top) if not more.
So bring on the chirping birds, Daylight Savings, and muddy playgrounds...I am ready for my favorite season to begin.
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