Celebrating the Athletes

Today was another day of milestones, for both boys completed their 2012 little league baseball season.  I went into work very early, and left a little early, for such a compelling occasion.  Daniel's awards ceremony was at 5:00 p.m. at Mack's Apples, a nearby orchard owned by a very community-conscious older man, while Ian's game was taking place, and then Ian's awards ceremony was at 6:30 in the little picnic table pavillion at the ball park, next to the food stand that always smells like hot grease, while Daniel's final game was starting up.  I asked Amy whether Daniel was getting an award, and based on the age, town, and prevailing culture of our time, I shouldn't have been surprised:  of course he was.  Every player got a trophy and their own recognition.

Daniel was recognized with the distinction of Most Smiling Player, or some such category.  At the end of his game, both of his coaches reiterated this affirmation, talking about how great it is to see him grinning out on the field, throughout the game.  Ian was given the recognition of Best Player for Someone Who Has Never Played Before, which I assume means he was probably the best player on the team altogether, or at least very close to the best.  Ian got a small package with at least two baseballs on it - one designed for autographs, and with an autograph already on it.  Ian seemed to recognize at least one player in the lineup of names on the box in which the ball came, and eagerly pointed out the figure to his coach.  As usual, there was a lot of Gatorade - all in little little-league-sized bottles.  Daniel snagged one from Ian's team and then went off to get his own from his own team as the game began - and, in fact, I heard one of his coaches diligently directing the boys to drink their Gatorade.  Of course, we're having a heat wave right now - it was 102 degrees on the way home, and still in the 90's during the game, but it was still touching to see how determined they were to ensure that the boys drink their electrolytes.

Amy and I both wondered why the baseball season ran from mid-to-late-March to mid-to-late-June.  When the season began, we assumed it was some kind of New England collective masochism - let's go out in near-freezing weather, and probably a touch of rain, and play some baseball for 90 minutes at a stretch.  And we also didn't understand why the season was so short.  As of this afternoon, I completely understand why the season ends at the very beginning of Summer, and I have to say that I don't disapprove.

So our two Oakland A's completed their seasons successfully - Ian in the "Farm" league and Daniel in the "Rookies" league.  This is no small achievement, considering what a nerd's nerd Daddy is.  My brain rather went into deep freeze during these one-and-a-half-hour games - which were almost never concurrent - but I really enjoyed watching the boys dress up with helmets and caps and t-shirts and mitts and take part in the Great American Sport, with their contemporaries.  And it gave me a chance to be with the townsfolk, almost all of whom seem to have come from exactly my childhood's vintage of middle-middle-class ethnic (Irish/Italian/etc) quasi-suburban Boston.  I didn't really know where all the people from my childhood went, since I don't see too many of them in my daily life, but it was on that very ballfield, about seven years ago, that I discovered that they had followed exactly my migratory pattern, north-by-northwest, and they were my neighbors.  I took Ian to watch a game when he was about one or two, thinking that it was the kind of father-and-son thing that we should get in the habit of doing, and it wasn't a bad way to pass a Saturday afternoon, and the park was a short walk through the woods from the library's parking lot.  And even then, I think I thought I might, one day, see him play there, and, interestingly, it was on that very same diamond (the park has about seven of them, I kid you not) - on that same diamond where Ian played most of his games, where I once propped him up on my lap, sitting on the bleachers, and encouraged him to look out at the strapping young lads playing ball right before us.

I know I'm a pretty unconventional Dad, but it's still fun to do the boy-stuff with the boys, in such an unmistakable glow of red-white-and-blue.

(June 21, 2012)