"So," said the woman with the stroller and bewildered toddler, "when are you due?"

"Monday."

After the silence, "... cutting it a bit close there ...." she said, as the doors opened behind her, with an edge of nervous laughter, as if I was more than twenty minutes from home and the baby like to appear in that timeframe without warning, as if I should be spending more time hiding, just in case, to be safe.

People confuse me.


The Spinners lost. There were some nice plays. If that's not the first ballgame I've been to that I didn't score, it's been years; it was oddly nice to just watch the game, leaning on [livejournal.com profile] artan_eter's shoulder, with [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan dropping his hand over the rail every so often for me to hold when he wasn't playing with the camera. I did not get a hot pretzel, though they smelled wonderful.

I like minor league games more than the majors, in a lot of ways; it's easier to just snuggle into the undemanding bosom of Baseball and let the feel of the game roll without the overwhelming This Is The Big Leagues Baby ambiance. It doesn't demand, it requires nothing but the smooth clean arc of raw physics and a sharp slide across grass in the hope that man vs. physics might come up man. It's easy to love baseball in the minors. The children chase foul balls like pack hunters, the ushers and stadium decorations try to get people to do the wave, toddlers race the mascot around the bases between innings, and the white figures and the grey figures do battle armed with parabolas.

As the man said, your immortality is measured in outs.

For some reason, I wanted this quote here. I'm not sure why.

    It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. - A. Bartlett Giamatti


I'm glad Dad suggested I get out to a game before the baby makes doing so awfully complicated. It's an ineffable thing, baseball, baseball and me.
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