Game Ball

I have a life goal: to catch/get a ball at a major league baseball game. It wouldn’t have to be a home run ball, I’d be content with a foul ball, hell even a batting practice ball.

A month ago I went to an Orioles game. A couple balls were hit very near to my seat. Someone else got them. And each time a guy caught it, they would hand it to the nearest kid they could find.

To which it dawned on me, to my horror. An awful, terrible, sad, unfortunate truth: that the day I finally get my own baseball, there will be a little kid sitting in the row right in front of me. And he (or she!) will look so excited to be so near to where the ball landed. And I will have to hand her (or him!) the ball.

No, it is not that the kid will have any expectation of getting the ball from me. It is the people all around me. They will expect me to give it to the kid. The TV cameras will have followed the path of the ball into the stands. It will be obvious that I am the one with the ball and that there’s a kid right in front of me.

Jumbo-tron obvious.

So I will reluctantly hand the ball to him (or her!). Perhaps I will hesitate for an extra second, savoring the brief moment in my life when my dream had finally been fulfilled. But ultimately, I will concede to the gods of game tradition and participate in passing down the love of the game to the next generation.

And the kid will tell the story for the rest of his (or her!) life.

And so will I.

Explore posts in the same categories: Daily Life

One Comment on “Game Ball”

  1. smosthedog Says:

    If you wait long enough, you’ll have a kid of your own to take to baseball games, and either one of you might get the ball but it’ll ultimately be yours!

    But that’s also a frightening vision of the future, frightening in that the thought makes me age about three decades. Yikes.

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