Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I've been thinking a lot lately about how different the cultures are among the different sports we enjoy. There's soccer, where it is perfectly acceptable for a grown man to roll around on the ground pretending to be hurt. There's hockey, where we think it was a wasted game if some big brute didn't knock the teeth out of some other big brute. There's basketball, where you can watch a coach get an anurism because he can't let his emotions show for fear of being kicked out of the game.
And then there's baseball. A sport where it is perfectly acceptable, and somewhat expected, for a manager to spit, throw things, kick dirt, and throw an all-out hissy-fit in the umpire's face. And that manager may be thrown out of the game, but before he goes he will repeat his hissy-fit a while longer. Oh, and it's really exciting when an entire team will erupt from the dugout to join the fight. Really, it's an amazing thing to watch, that American pastime.
Jake is perfect for baseball. Yes, he's actually pretty good at the sport. He can hit that ball really hard. And he really doesn't need that tee. And more importantly, he loves to play. But that's not why he's perfect for the game. He's perfect for the game because of comments like this:
"If I were the coach, I would have called that a foul!" yelled at the other team's coach.
My boy has the temper - and the mouth - for baseball. I'm so proud.