By Rick Kaempfer
Those of you who know me well, know what a huge baseball fan I am. I'm the editor-in-chief of a website dedicated to my favorite baseball team, the Cubs (Just One Bad Century), and I've wasted countless hours of my life following that team.
I must admit, when Bridget and I had three boys, I envisioned that I would spend most of my time playing and watching baseball with them. It hasn't exactly turned out the way I pictured it. My oldest son Tommy is more into music and technology and doesn't like sports at all. My middle son Johnny is more into soccer and comic books.
I haven't pushed either of them to get into baseball. We play it a little in the backyard, but it's clearly not their favorite sport. That's always been OK with me. I thought it was pretty funny actually. After all, my dad was a soccer fanatic, and I spent most of my youth playing baseball (even when we lived in Germany!). It seemed only fair that my kids would prefer something else too.
That's probably why I was so surprised when my youngest boy Sean asked if I would sign him up for T-ball.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "Your brothers both picked soccer."
"I'm sure, Dad."
So I signed him up this spring and did my best to keep my expectations low. I tried not to get too excited when he began sitting next to me, asking questions about the players and the rules as I watched the Cubs. I pretended not to notice when he started playing with baseball cards. I tried to maintain my cool when he started asking me to hit him a few grounders, and when he started fielding those grounders with natural ease.
I tried not to explode with pride when he put his hands on his knees in baseball-ready position, and when he requested the coach pitch to him because he didn't need the tee. I pretended not to notice that he was always the first to volunteer for any assignment on the diamond, and that he played a flawless first base, and that the coach considered him "scrappy."
I really thought I was doing a good job of hiding it until Bridget came to a game with me last weekend. Out of the corner of my eye I could see she was staring at me. She had a big grin on her face.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"You," she said.
"What?"
"You've never been happier in your life," she said.
Busted.
I can understand why she's amused. She knows why I'm so happy. It has nothing to do with Sean's athletic ability, which is probably just slightly above average. It has everything to do with his obvious love of the game. I'm just excited because I finally have a baseball buddy in the house.
Plus, as a bonus, these T-ball games are unbelievably entertaining. Whenever someone hits the ball, the entire team chases it. There were eight players crowded around second base trying to field a grounder the other day. That's just funny.
Another time a kid forgot which direction to run, and ran to third base first--which caused a traffic jam on the bases. Hilarious.
Our second baseman spent the entire first inning grooming the infield dirt into a pile, before pouring it into his hat, and putting the hat onto his head. Our third baseman loves to slide so much that she slides into home plate after every runner. Our centerfielder has forgotten to come in when it's our turn to bat because he loves picking dandelions.
That's free entertainment.
And I'm loving every second of it.
