Baseball consumes our lives. We eat, sleep, and breathe baseball. We’ve figured that pretty much all of our time and disposable income goes to baseball. Between the four boys, I think I spend about 30 hours a week driving to baseball practices, waiting at practices and watching games.
All of our conversations are consumed by baseball related facts. Which team is in first place. Who hit a home run this week. What bat did they use. How many pitches did so and so pitch in each game. Can I pitch on Tuesday’s game. Is there practice. Are the fields flooded. Couldn’t we just put in turf fields on all the fields. I’m starting to find myself an expert on all things little league.
Dave is becoming even more of an expert. Marshall wanted a new bat. A $250 bat. I wondered if maybe the bat was full of dollar bills. Or if it was guaranteed a hit every at bat. At this point in Dave’s research, I’m pretty sure that he could give up his job in Electrical Engineering and become a bat engineer. Last week we decided to bite the bullet and order the bat. Every day Marshall tracked the package. What he failed to notice was that Amazon hadn’t actually processed the order. On the day it was supposed to arrive, and didn’t, I checked the tracking. I updated my credit cards expiration date and broke the news to marshall that he’d have to wait a few more days for el expensivo (what I’ve decided to name his bat).
Yesterday Fed Ex came at noon and brought me a new chicken feeder and watering system. The look of disappointment on Marshall’s face was precious. He went back to checking the bat’s tracking website followed by sitting on the porch waiting for the UPS man. If he was a more demonstrative kid, he’d probably have kissed him when he arrived in time to take el expensivo to the game.
I wish I had gotten a clearer picture. It’s almost like the look of a proud dad holding his first born son. The look in his eye says, “Oh, baby, we’re going to have one amazing season. I can almost count all the home runs.”