Baseball

Baseball is as American as apple pie but, I'm not American. I'm Canadian. Not that I don't enjoy a nice slice of apple pie now and then. I also eat tarte aux sucre and tortiere things that you may not find in some all american towns. We're not huge baseball fans here in Montreal since the Expos went south but, tonight I went to a baseball game. My 8yo son's first game. It was great. Maybe a little long, and no our team did not win.

For the first few innings it looked like we were gonna get whooped 25 - 0. Then one player on our team hit the ball and then another and another until we finally got one run. Two more made it home and it was our son's turn to bat. He is the smallest kid on his team, even smaller than the girls. It is his first time playing baseball so he barely knows the rules let alone how to hit the ball. I was nervous for him. I didn't want him to be the first kid to strike out this inning. The bases were loaded, if he could just hit the ball and make it to first their team might score. He swung and missed. I kept my mouth shut. I know he didn't need anyone shouting out how to hit the ball. Especially me, I doubt I could hit it either. He missed again then, on the next pitch he hit it. No he didn't hit a home run, he barely tapped it halfway to the pitcher but, in the confusion to see where the ball went he made it to first and another kid made it home. Our team struck out before my son made it home but, I could see on his face how happy he was just to have hit the ball and made it on base. And did I mention the other team was huge. I think some of the kids had mustaches!

I've read other blogs where mom's complain about how long the games are, how long the season is and how much time it takes up and I'm sure I'll feel that way too but, tonight was such a pleasure. Seeing the look of pride on his little face.