Baseball is tailor-made for little boys. The mechanics of the game are fairly easy to grasp, so even a boy of 4 can quickly learn how to play the game and enjoy watching it. And the smack of the bat hitting the ball is tremendously satisfying.
We got Scott a tee-ball set last summer that he used fairly steadily (even breaking it out on sunny winter days), learning to crank it across the yard. He also used his $5 birthday money from his Great-G&G M to buy whatever he wanted from Superstore: a big red plastic bat with a ball.
When we went to Brian Head for the reunion, he discovered a baseball on a tether that he could hit all he wanted, with the added thrill of hitting a moving target as it swung back around. Once we got home from our trip, I rigged a similar tether in our back yard, hanging from a tree branch. It required frequent repair because the garden twine that I used did not stand up to the constant abuse.
It was fun to watch Scott crank the ball hard enough that it swung full loops around its anchor point 8 feet up. He impressed me with his ability to hit the swinging ball consistently. I switched from twine to light-gauge aluminum wire that I had on hand, but that eventually broke too. As a result, we often revert back to pitching the ball to him.
Once again, I was impressed -- by both his timing and his enthusiasm. He seems to always swing at the right time, so he only misses it because he's off the mark a bit trying to track the ball's flight. And he will keep at it forever. We went to a playground a little while ago and he chose to go to the nearby baseball diamond rather than play on the playground equipment. After we both settled into our respective positions, he was consistently hitting the ball to the edge of the infield -- and one time he nearly took my head off. He also tries to bite my head off when he is unimpressed with my pitches -- in my defense, the strike zone is pretty small.
Scott picked a library book called "How Babe Ruth Saved Baseball", which we read probably 10 times in the 3 weeks that we had it. This book choice may have been influenced by Scott's habit of calling everyone "Babe" (if he's not calling me Babe he's calling me by my first name).
Coming home from church last week I heard the sound of a game coming from the nearby baseball stadium and asked Scott if he wanted to go see a real baseball game. He did, of course. I picked up Thursday-night tickets to see the Calgary Vipers play the Edmonton Capitals for us and some friends (2.5-year-old Ty and his dad T), sitting front row right behind home plate.
Our vantage point was great because everything was so close and so loud -- the sound of the ball smacking into the catcher's mitt was fantastic, as was the crack of the bat on every hit. And there were a lot of hits, with the score reaching 11-1 by the time we checked out in the 5th inning. Scott asked questions about everything he saw, learning about scoring, the foul lines, strikes, balls, walking a batter, the advantage of line drives over flies, stealing bases, innings, etc. He was fascinated by the game, and kept quite focused on it for most of the time we were there.
Seeing a walked batter throw his bat towards the dugout before heading to first base--
S: Why did that guy throw his bat?
D: He didn't need it anymore because he was going to the base. Do you think he should throw his bat?
S: No. [throwing bats is a big no-no in our back yard]
D: You should go tell him not to throw it anymore.
S: I can't tell him. He's playing BASEBALL!
To keep things interesting we moved to the 1st Base line for a few innings, we checked in with Slider the Viper mascot (Ty did, Scott was hesitant), and we kept the cotton candy, slushies and French fries coming at a steady pace.
Many of the foul balls shot up high enough to land on with a clang on the roof of the stadium, which is shaped like a massive backstop (when quizzed about the game later, Scott identified this as one of his favourite things about the experience). He asked me about the errant hits --
S: What happens to the balls that land outside the stadium?
D: I don't know. Do you think the snake [Slider the Mascot] eats them?
S: [nods] Yeah.
D: Do you think that snakes like to eat baseballs?
S: [pauses to think] Probably not.
Scott also saw numerous foul balls drop into the stands many rows above us, so we took up position up there for the 5th inning to try and snag one, but the fouls suddenly dried up and it was time for us to go.
It was a perfect night for baseball with a vivid sunset as the backdrop behind the right field wall. We will definitely be going back next year.
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