I'm sorry, but I'm not a baseball fan.
OK, I'll pack my bags and you can send me to Siberia, so long as they don't play baseball there.
Don't get me wrong. I don't have anything against baseball, per se, it's just that I'm not a fan. I don't have a favorite team. I don't have a favorite player.
I just don't give a rat's ass about baseball.
My ambivalence towards baseball may stem from the pick-up games we had as a kid where I was the last player chosen. Yes, I was the Charlie Brown of my neighborhood, doomed to play the outfield forever.
Once we had an injury and the Coach asked if I could play Second Base. I lept at the chance. Second Base was my ideal position because I was fast, but I couldn't throw far. I was a disaster in the outfield. I was probably nearsighted at the time, too, which didn't help.
Anyway, I was brilliant at Second Base. I scored several outs and made a number of crucial plays. It was my finest moment. Then the Coach said that I was to go back to the outfield because the Second Base player was well. Coach told me that I was a good Second Base player but the other guy had started at second base and his parents sort of expected him to play that position and if I went back to Center Field where I would drop balls and be unable to throw them into the infield, well, that would help the team a whole lot.
So, I went out to Center Field and got yelled at a lot. I felt good, though, becuse I knew I was helping the team.
I sort of lost interest in baseball after that.
There was an article in the paper about a Houston team in some sort of play off. Are the Astros from around here?
I wouldn't know.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
I have almost the exact same baseball story except I was brought to short stop. It was great because I was finally doing a good job playing, but when I was sent back to the outfield it just plain sucked. I didn't go back the following year, but I was happy to know I was actually good at some part of the game.
Commie-pinko! If McCarthy was alive, you'd be in big trouble. I think the Astros are losing anyways...
I was always picked last even though I was good at sports. We moved to a new town and being the new fourth grader whose mom dressed her like a kindegardener, I was the dork no one wanted on their team. Kids are so mean!
Bill, you are absolutely hysterical. I love your blog.
I was always picked last. (I think being the shortest, least athletic may have had something to do with it, but I couldn't see that then.) If they didn't have to pick everyone, I would probably still be standing there on the side, hoping that someone would pick me now. I might have a better chance because kids usually pick an adult because they can usually do things better.
However, after I met my husband, I thought I would try out some sports with him. It turns out that I can play a lot of them as well or better (oh, I so hope he won't read this!) than him. (No I am not conceited, just enlightened.)
I have a killer golf drive (can't stand the game though), I can throw a football amazingly accurately, I love volleyball and I will hit a softball 4 out of 5 times. I think it has to do with learning how to keep my eyes open when I play...
I liked Center Field, though. It was a great place to catch some rays without having to bother with thinking about the game.
Post a Comment