Thursday, April 07, 2005

What Went Wrong?


When my first child was born I went to the local florist shop and bought a small bouquet of flowers to place in the room for her mother to look at until being released from the hospital. Lucy smiled when she noticed that the “vase” looked remarkably like a baseball glove. I was simply making sure that the child would have every opportunity, that she would be exposed to a proper environment from the get go.

When Bonnie was serving a mission from the Church I would send her at least one letter each week to let her know that I was thinking of her; making sure to include the latest baseball news on the Astros. I know that without those tidbits she would be unprepared to face the challenges of life; things like Bagwell getting his hand broken by a wild pitch, keeping her informed of the team standings and even including clippings from the sports pages. I don’t think she appreciated my efforts to lead her to a greater understanding of the importance of baseball in our very existence. Sure, the Gospel is important; but incomplete with out a working knowledge of baseball.

I was watching an ESPN advertisement a few minutes ago. A little girl was standing in front of her class doing a presentation of her science project. On the wall behind her she had an assortment of pictures, all on baseball. She was explaining about the importance of middle relievers and how the game hinges on the specialty pitcher’s role in the game of baseball. It was the kind of thing that any father would have been proud of. Then I thought of how Bonnie went upstairs to watch a DVD the other night before the first pitch was even thrown to start the season. My heart was broken for having failed as a father; I had failed to teach the sacred nature of opening day and would someday have to face that Great Umpire to explain the balk.

Bonnie doesn’t know the ERA of Roger Clemens. She hasn’t got a clue as to what pitch the batter is looking for when the count is 3 -1, or the simplest thing like the infield fly rule. With everything I’ve tried to pass along; letting her listen the Dodger games late at night from the West Coast while she was sleeping, setting the presets on her car radio to KPRC “Home of the Astros” and letting her know who was traded during the off season. Maybe I should purchase those little baseball towels and hang them in the bathroom along with a clock that plays “Take me out to the ball game”, with Harry doing his, “A one, A two, A Three” at Three o’clock; maybe that will help. Gotta’ run, time for the pre-game show, catch up with this later.

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