23 Oct

Dad and Buried Posted in Drinking One comment

Fanning the Flames?

Now that I have a car (stupid North Carolina), I find myself listening to the radio more than I have in years. Of course, the radio is terrible. So I throw on sports talk.

Which is also terrible, especially local sports radio. But the national shows, like ESPN’s morning shows and a few others, are tolerable. This morning, I heard Dan Patrick tell a story about how, one day during the 2004 playoffs, some of his son’s classmates – Yankees fans – pissed on the kid’s Red Sox hat.

Suddenly I’ve started questioning the way I’ve been indoctrinating my son into fandom.

Sacrifice Try?

My son has recently become obsessed with playing baseball, waking up every morning and immediately demanding to take some cuts with his plastic bat (and Red Sox ball. REPRESENT!).

I think it’s great that he’s into the sport; it’s a hell of a lot safer than football and I’m glad he’s showing more interest in it than in something like soccer. But it’s gonna hurt when I crush his dreams. Or, more to the point, when his body does.

Sorry, kid. You don’t have the genes for sports.

Rivals-In-Law

I am a Red Sox fan.

I grew up idolizing Dwight Evans (DEWEY!), I cried after Game 6 – not only because I suddenly owed Howard Elkies two dollars – and I was on the streets of Boston for the duck boat parade in 2004.

Last week, my father-in-law sent my son a Yankees shirt.

HULK SMASH!

Drinking with Kids

When I lived in Boston and NYC, this weekend’s St. Paddy’s celebration was a big deal. But now, I live in the south – I’m not sure they’ve even heard of the Irish – AND I have a two-year-old. Day-drinking my way through St. Patrick’s Day is a lot harder with a toddler.

Even one who has got some Irish in him. (And has been there!)

Dadding Practice

Before he was even a twinkle in my eye, I had some ideas about what I wanted to teach my hypothetical son. Most of us do; without necessarily meaning to, we all take stock of what worked for us as kids, what we vow never to do as parents, what values we consider most important, etc. When you finally have children of your own, it’s a bit of a thrill to realize just how important you are to them, and how much influence you have over their development.

But my son is only two; it’s a bit early to tell him to always wear a rubber and when to double down. He needs to be able to swing off a tee before I can toss any real heat his way. But that doesn’t stop me from occasionally buzzing one by his ear.

Dad and Buried

Tag: Baseball

Fanning the Flames?

Like this:

Sacrifice Try?

Like this:

Rivals-In-Law

Like this:

Drinking with Kids

Like this:

Dadding Practice

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: