The Big One is playing baseball. For the first time ever. Never played T-Ball. Never played in a league where the coaches pitch to the little-league-ers. Never wanted to. BEGGED me not to sign him up. He SHORE didn't have to beg ME not to make him play.
My mom used to say she asked my brother this question round about the time baseball sign-ups started ... "You DON'T reeaaallllly want to play baseball do you?" All the while shaking her head vigorously from side to side. My brother's happy to please. He just said no. And played soccer instead. And chased butterflies. And ate snacks. And looked so cute in short pants.
The Big One has always shunned sports w/ funny pants and one where he might stand out. Or strike out. Or where, heaven forbid, I might CHEER for him. Cheering things like ... "GET A PIECE OF IT!!"
Or. "WAIT FOR A GOOD ONE!"
That's just nasty.
But, he's playing ball. He's good. He's darn good. He wants to pitch more than anything.
He'll be the starting pitcher in the next game.
He's likely pitch to a girl w/ a pink bat, pink cleats, and a ponytail sticking out the back of a pink batting helmet.
I'll be rootin' for him to strike her butt ouuuuuuttt!!
