Take me out to the ball game

Guess I'm terrified of leaving on vacation with gas prices the way they are.
See more of Ted's political cartoons at http://tmal.multiply.com/photos/album/2

Take me out to the ball game
Charter Oak-Ute NEWSpaper — Schleswig Leader, Thursday, June 7, 2007 – Page 3

Have you ever been to a Major league baseball game? At Chase field in Phoenix, the concessions areas have the feel of a typical large indoor shopping mall. This contemporary temple of America’s pastime has a retractable roof and is air conditioned. Of course, special Diamonbacks fans not only have sky boxes, the even have a pool.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve only been to two major league parks. As much as I love my D’Backs, I prefer their division rival’s home park, Dodger Stadium. This place is situated in Chavez Ravine in such a way so that the city is to your back and the ball field itself is sort of hugged by the hills. Griffith park is not far away. Palm trees and sea breezes contribute ambience.

In these places world class athletes ply their trades. Some, like the Red Sox’s Kurt Schilling analyze their performances and those of their opponents meticulously, others like the Giant’s Barry Bonds pump themselves full of steroids. All of them endure months of grueling training and years in the minor leagues. Their skills are honed to such a fine degree that their teams have decided to pay them millions of dollars.

This is a far cry from watching 4-8 year old girls playing Tee-Ball. This year, we had the good fortune of having both a 5 year old and an 8 year old playing on the same team.

When our 5 year old found out that not only was Charter Oak going to field a girl’s tee-ball team after all, but they were opening it up to TK (Transitional Kindergarten) through Third grade, she was jumping off the walls. Her very first question was would she get a hat.
Naturally, it was up to her 8 year old sister to share with her all of her well seasoned years of wisdom and experience in the sport.

In major league baseball, most of the mitts are brown or black. The Japanese have even added the technological advancement of polarized, transparent plastic where the webbing used to be, so that players can see the ball coming without the sun interfering.

In girls’ t-ball, most of the mitts are pink. Most of the ones that aren’t are black with pink trim or white with pink trim. Come to think of it, a lot of the batting helmets are pink too. The Dodgers don’t have holes in the back of their helmets for pony tails either.

In pro baseball some of the exciting plays happen when runners jump or slide in order to touch the base and avoid the baseman. In t-ball, there always seems to be someone who runs as hard as they can, completely oblivious of the bases. In pro ball, no one ever keeps running from home plate on to the girls bathroom.

In pro-ball, runners lead-off from their base, sometimes they even steal a base. T-Ball girls sometimes dance and twirl (or maybe wiggle a little potty-dance). Often they’re happy to just sit down on the base and play in the dirt or pick at the grass. Don’t think this is something that only runners do, plenty of outfielders can spend much of the game this way.

I’m never quite sure that I understand what ballplayers chant when they engage in dugout cheers and chatter. I swore that at the last game I was at, along with the usual “We are the Bobcats, the mighty, mighty bobcats,” I swore I heard something along these lines-

“We don’t play with Barbies, no no, nothing like that-
We just like to play with balls and bats!”

Now, that may be somewhat true during games, but I can tell you as the parent of two of these athletes, sometimes they don’t even wait until they get home- they break out the Barbies and/or Bratts as soon as they get back in the van.

You’ve seen professional baseball players celebrating after a game with Gatorade, beer, or champaign- depending on how far they’ve made it in the season, but kids just want candy and pop.

Pro ball players follow statistics religiously. And rightly so, not only their team’s standings, but their own careers depend on them. In t-ball all you count is the number of ups and the number of half hours that have past- sometimes you bother with innings.

The most important part of the game is slapping hands and shouting “Good game!” to your opponents in two big lines when it’s all over. If only all competition ended like that.

Of course, between school programs, Dance recitals, doctor's appointments, and leaving to visit family down in Phoenix- the Mallory girls only actually played in one real game this year. Grace was in two, Ellen, the 5 year old who was SO excited, only one. But we're already excited about next season!

Crackers and Applejacks

This is only our first summer as t-ball parents and I’m really enjoying it. Of course, our coach is pretty patient and forgiving about missing whole practices, let alone being late.

There were appointments and speech therapy appointments and of course dance class and recital rehearsal. Although I’ll admit that I think there was at least one time when I just plain forgot.

I always enjoy watching baseball and softball more than a lot of other sports. It’s a step-by-step process. Batters take turns. Infielders and outfielders have places where they’re supposed to be, so you know where to look for who. By contrast, pretty much everybody is out on the field running in the same direction at the same time- at least that’s how it was for the K-3 teams.
What’s wonderful about watching the Pre-K through 2nd grade T-Ball teams is that it’s so low pressure. That might be the same reason so many people root for the Chicago Cubs. Watching a really good team that has a chance to get somewhere in the post-season can really be stressful.
You know the feeling, that same edge of your seat anxiety. Your adrenaline races as if the fate of the whole world depended on the next play.

Let’s face it, it’s more fun to watch a team that isn’t so close to perfect. You might get to laugh, you love to root for the downtrodden underdog, you empathize and you’re proud of them- not because of some massive accomplishment, but because you know they did they’re best and had fun doing it.

Still, you have to be careful as a parent not to try living vicariously through your kid. I’m certainly one who’d love to have my kids make up for how athletically inept I was when I was a kid.

I always got stuck Way out in far, far, far, deep, deep left field where I could do the least damage.

I couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn with a bat. I won’t even talk about my throwing. I think that I finally learned how to catch when I was in my twenties. The only difference between me and Charlie Brown is that they actually let him pitch.

One good thing about Grace having Apraxia is that I know that she’s going to have troubles with coordination so I don’t demand perfection.

I’ve seen parents who have a hard time if their baby isn’t a world class jock. When little so and so sits down in the dirt and plays with the grass instead of paying attention, some parents really chew them out. At least they don’t start chewing other people’s kids out yet at this age group.
In fact, the best thing about T-ball for these littlest kids is that everybody is cheering for all of them, even the opposing team’s crowd. It is pretty hard to hate 4-7 year old girls on the rival team as if they’re the enemy; they’re too damn cute.

Like when the littlest kid on the team gets a hit and runs to third instead of first. It was okay; she’s left-handed. Or when kids don’t realize that they’re even supposed to run when they’re on base and the next batter gets a hit.

Once Grace was on second and the batter got a hit and finally after waiting for her to get going, I shouted out “C’mon Gracie, run, honey, run!” And she galloped up to the pitcher’s mound instead of to third base. Hey, it looked like it was another base.

The other night, “Grand Slam” Taylor Sandy batted our loaded bases home and the opposing catcher had the ball but just stood there dumbfounded.

Eventually her fans called to her to touch home plate, louder and louder they cheered until finally she ran over to the T-Ball Tee and “touched base” on it, instead of on the real home plate. Our runs filed in safe. What ya gonna do? The bottom of the Tee is shaped just like Home only difference is that it’s black and has a big tall pipe sticking up out of it.

And who cares that the kindergarten shortstop just stands there playing with her loose tooth as the second baseman (a second grader) scoops up the ball that was hit right in front of her.

Just wait till Grandma and Grandpa in Arizona see pictures of her playing ball with her hair and make-up all fancy from the Dance rehearsal, patting her fist into her bright pink mitt!
And her three-year old little sister enjoys coming to games too, even if she doesn’t get to play yet. She climbs the bleachers like a jungle gym, explores the dugout and tries on helmets that are three sizes too big and loves to buy “beef turkey” at the concessions stand.

She even leaned the song, “Take me out to the ball game, Take me out to the clouds. Buy me some cwackers and Applejacks, then I can gem my shoes back…cause it’s 1..2…3…4…9 and go out to the GAME!”