It’s Sunday evening, and I am recording the Red Sox/Yankees game, so that I can watch Bob Costas interview Jim Bouton for an hour (soon as the interview is over, it’s straight to the game.) It’s a great ending to a great weekend, which given the personal issues I am going through right now, was a blessing…because of baseball.
So let me start at the beginning, Friday evening. I pick up my six year old son for the weekend, and we decide to go to the local independent Frontier League team, the River City Rascals. They beat the Traverse City Beach Bums 6-4. However, the score of the game is not what made it such a great night. It was much more than that. We got front row seats down the first base side, where as you look at the bag, you are staring down second base, just where I like to sit. My son’s eyes were big, and smile was wide. For twenty-two bucks, I had already got my money’s worth. We ended up talking about how school was going, how his three year old little brother was a monster, and baseball. We kept our eyes open and his glove ready to go for any possible foul ball coming from a right handed batter. After six innings, he wanted to go to the outfield to fool around at the playground tucked away behind left field for awhile, which is always a favorite for him. After a little bit we head on down to the third base side, where they have lawn seating, and you can go up to the visitor’s bullpen and chit-chat with pitchers.
All of a sudden, I liner comes right towards me from the batter on a what I was told, a hanging slider. The ball bounced once before it came over the short brick fence right at me. My insticts tell me to get in front of it and put up both hands to catch. Thankfully, common sense kicks in REAL quick and I side step to attempt to catch it with one hand…didn’t happen. Heard the spin of the ball, the smack off my hand, and then the teenage kid behind me scoop it up. I look at my 6 year old, and can see that he is heart broken.
This is where the the night starts to take off for me. The kid that scooped up the ball, saw my son, looked at me, and without even thinking about it, walks over and hands the ball to my son and says, ” Here you go kid, I already got one earlier.”
He then turns to me and says, “Sir, I didn’t know you were going after the ball for your son, that’s why I gave it to him.” I shook his hand, and he took off for his friends. I look att my son, and once again he is beaming ear to ear. I turn back around to try and locate the kid to insist on me buying him a soda or something, but he was long gone. Hope I run into him again someday, for I will not forget what he did.
We head back to our seats, because now my son is excited for he knows that we have excellent chance for getting autographs…which we do. We even got the autograph from the starting pitcher, Josh Lowey, who went eight innings for the win.
Afterward, they had a fireworks show, which happens every Friday night home game. Little bit on the loud side for my son, but he still enjoyed. Add in a trip to the gift shop, and the puchase of a team set of the River Rascals, and we had a perfect night.
Saturday started off with my son’s soccer game (boy, he can run forever), picking up his 13 year old brother, off to my parents for a few hours of all of us swimming…and then to another baseball game.
Same teams, same seats, another night of fun with my boys at a ballgame. Although the home team lost, we still had fun watching the game, talking about school and video games, watching out for foul balls, and coming closer together…partly becuase of baseball.
I am now going to sign off, and watch the rest of the Yanks/Bosox game. It looks like a good one!
This post is dedicated to my blogging and baseball buddy, Melinda.