chickandsoup: June 2010

The Orioles—Caleb and Owen wearing Wieters jerseys—defeated me soundly, 54-4.
In the aforementioned game, I went web gem on the kids. After a weakly-hit pop-up presented one of my rare opportunities to record an out, I went after it as though the pennant depended on it. Full dive following a full sprint, arm extended. Out. Teri witnessed it. I’m pretty sure she fell in love with me all over again.
This week, the boys started to use a wooden Louisville slugger Derek Jeter-model bat. Caleb also insists on using hard baseballs. This has window replacement written all over it. Well worth the cost.
Because we have no fireworks, Caleb and Owen decided their “firework” celebration would be filling a water rifle from the pool and "firing" the loaded squirt gun directly into the sky showering water over the trotting home run hitter.
Owen insists on wearing baseball pants—regardless of the heat stroke which may ensue. Owen MUST look like a baseball player daily. Tantrums follow if Teri or I demand shorter pants. Our saving grace was the photo below: Alex Rios is wearing shorts in a spring training practice proving that, indeed, baseball players are not in pants all of the time. Now, any time Owen is sentenced to his shorts, he says, “Like that Blue Jay guy.”

Caleb’s knowledge of baseball continually impresses me. In a rare rally, I had the bases filled with ghost runners. I grounded to Owen who threw to Caleb at first. After getting me out, Caleb fired the ball back to Owen (who was standing on second) and yelled, “Tag him [the ghost runner].” Few six year-olds know that the ghost runner must be tagged when the force play was already made at first. Heck, I'm not sure that Lastings Milledge knows that one yet.
Despite Caleb's knowledge of the game, he still thinks it's called a "groundhog double" when a ball bounces over the fence. It would be easily correctable, but it's too cute to correct.
I was catching the other day; Caleb was pitching. I signaled 1. He shook me off. He continued to shake off 2, 3, 4, and 5. He then said he wanted to throw #6. I took my glove off; he nodded approval. Then he asked what pitch #6 was.
I asked Caleb the date. He didn't know. I said, "Neil Walker." He said, "The 18th." The kid knows his scorecard.

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