Something a little different to go with today's Picture of the Day: a whole bunch of words!
But first, the picture:
That's the little potato himself, getting ready for Opening Day. And now, the words -- I wrote this a few days ago and didn't know what to do with it, so here it is.
A Father's Lament
Baby Theo was born at the end of December. Nearly three full months before he was born, he had his first Blue Jays jersey. The plan was to raise him "right", the way I was raised.
He attended his first baseball game at the tender age of fifteen weeks: Opening Day. He tolerated it surprisingly well -- he loved the crowd, and the noise didn't bother him except for when I cheered, so I learned not to do that.
He's been to three games now. At the first one he lasted seven innings, and at the second and third he stayed through the whole game, though both of those involved long naps in the middle. I was on cloud nine! My little boy liked baseball games!
Not so quick, pops.
I'm writing this at South Fletcher Arena in Brampton, where Mrs. Hank is coaching a hockey game. Theo and I are in the stands. Mrs. Hank, I should note, was once invited to skate with the Brampton Thunder, a team playing in the NWHL, the highest level of women's hockey in this country outside of the national team. She declined in order to focus on her education, and that's why I should really refer to her as Doctor Hank. (She did play a couple of seasons on their farm team with a more casual commitment level.) So perhaps I should have seen what was coming.
When the buzzer blared, sounding the end of the game before Doctor Hank's team was to take the ice, I expected Theo to cry, or at least make an irritated face. Instead he smiled and giggled. And when the game started, he was mesmerized: he followed the action, wide-eyed, a big, goofy grin on his face. When a player scored and the crowd cheered, he began to coo. He flapped his arms excitedly when the action came towards us.
I began to realize that my four month-old son merely tolerated the baseball games he had been to, but he was actually enjoying this hockey game. Could it be genetic? Do I have a hockey kid? Doesn't the name I gave him -- Theodore Aaron Reynolds, it just drips with baseball history! -- count for anything?
I'm hoping deep in my heart that the real issue here is that the Justine Blainey Wellness Centre Coyotes have bright red jerseys. Maybe the Cardinals will wear their alternate red uniforms to the Rogers Centre on June 13th and let me know one way or another.
(Theo fell asleep three quarters of the way through the game, and the Coyotes lost their season opener 9-7, mostly due to an absolutely brilliant goaltending performace from their opponent.)
https://www.battersbox.ca/article.php?story=20050505134433124