Baseball Again

The day of Luca’s first game of the season, I played John Fogerty’s baseball anthem “Centerfield” on our kitchen speaker that is secretly recording us. Luca ran screaming from the room, which sets up the season perfectly.

Luca’s age group has a few big changes this year:

First, it’s kid pitch. This gives kid pitchers a chance to cry openly in front of their friends and classmates. It also gives Dads a chance to offer asinine opinions to high school aged umpires about what constitutes a strike.

Second, and most importantly, players are required to wear a cup. I don’t know who was more excited by its comedic potential, me or Luca. Within the first four minutes of it arriving in our mail we’d cycled through all of the classics. Playing it like a bongo? Check. Pantomiming drinking from it? Check. Wearing it and nothing else? Check. Hitting yourself with a baseball to see if it actually works? Check.

The only negative is wearing a cup goes against Luca’s philosophy of never wearing underwear.

As with all early season games, the temperature barely hit 40 degrees. There is nothing like freezing cold metal bleachers and 30 MPH wind to make you fantasize about a fictional little man who rides up on a bicycle powered whisky cart. His name is Fredrick and he has a lovely mustache and a tweed jacket. If you are really nice to him, he’ll sell you one of the Cuban cigars he keeps hidden from authorities.

Luca did pretty great. He’s so hilariously serious about it. The intensity behind his eyes is absolutely amazing. Plus, his long hair makes him look like 1970’s Milwaukee Brewer Gorman Thomas. He’s been a part of some nice infield plays and is smart enough not to swing at any kid pitches, which guarantees a walk.

He keeps threatening to volunteer for pitching duty, which will be amazing blog material.