I would like to tell you how I became a baseball mom! Just like lots and lots of people out there, I love baseball and Yankees in particular. My dad gave me the active interest even as a tiny kid and I have ever since been captivated and engrossed in the game. There is not a thing that I do not like about it. The players, the lazy stride, the hot dogs, the sight of the ball field when, for the first time, you walk into the stands. And, of course, man, I love the baseball cards.
I had always dreamt that my son would one day be a baseball player and I would travel with those guys and be the flashy and blaring, loud-mouthed team mom. A drooping old lady with dazzling red lipstick, wearing my jersey while handing out the sports drink and condoms to the baseball players.
When my son developed the ability to hold things, I gave him a plastic bat and held him up to the television and told him, “See those guys with those numbers on their backs? That’s going to be you one day! Right?
But my son didn’t seem to like baseball. I tried my best to get him hooked, but all in vain. Once when we signed him up for little league, he was standing in the field with the glove on his head picking his nose every game. I began to lose hope. Oh… oh… I was not going to be that brazen, noisy, baseball mom. My dreams were dead!
A few years ago, my son was invited to a celebration at AT & T Park. The kids had to go into the field with some ex-Giants players to flaunt their stuff.
My son began bursting with frustration the minute he got onto the field. He had absolutely NO interest in playing. On the other hand, my daughter grabbed her bat and helmet and went skipping into the batting cage.
And she was unbelievable.
She bashed the ball with her tiny little thin string bean like arms. She was so focussed, so determined and when she stooped forward to shorten her strike zone, I instantly knew that she was born to be a baseball player. Yes, she was a real wonder.
All the players there started crowding around her, gently patting her back and telling her how wonderful she was. She radiated at them with a toothless grin and said, “I love baseball.”
And now I am a baseball mom! And it is fairly as good as I thought it would be!