Hello Baseball Fans,
The beginnings of baseball are simple. There are no innings. There is no home team. Or away team. There is no infield. Or outfield. There are no bases even. And there are no bats. There are no coaches. Or umpires. You see, at first you just need a ball. Any old ball will do. Its colors tan and brown instead of white and red. And you’ll need a mitt. Likely a hand-me-down. Throw that ball. Into the mitt. Again. Again. And again. Oh, the scent. No matter the wear and tear, the scent of the leathers. Of the mitt. Of the ball. Similar, yet still unique. They cannot be duplicated. Ah yes, the scents!
The beginnings of baseball are simple. Now you’re ‘ready’ to play catch. But how? With the glove facing up or down? ‘Hold it this way’, he says nicely. At your side or right in front? ‘Hold the glove in front’, he says. How does this thing work? ‘Squeeze it tight when the ball comes’, he says. It’s after dinnertime and getting late. Soon, it will be time to head in for the night. Who is around and willing to demonstrate? ‘OK, throw like this’, he says as he lightly tosses the ball directly at your mitt as to place it there. And besides, who has the patience to pick up the poor throws from the rookie’s little wing? ‘OK, that was a good one’, he says as he reaches and picks up the ball. ‘Get ready for the next one’.
The beginnings of baseball are simple. You. The scuffed ball. The worn mitt. And him. He is on the other end. For you. For, ‘he’ is your Dad. After a long day, he is the person who can muster the energy to teach. To coach even. Over and again. Night after night. Summer after summer. For certain, the energy is great. Yours for sure. And especially his. For certain, the effort is great. By you for sure. And especially by him. For certain, the thrill is great. For you for sure. And especially for him too. For certain, the joy is also great. For especially, both you and him.
Thanks to Dad, the beginnings of baseball are simple. And everlasting.
Later Baseball Fans.