My husband is a baseball fan. He started following the New York Mets in 1969 and he’s been faithful through the bad times and even the two good seasons. One of those good seasons happened in 1986. I only know this because while we were in the hospital laboring to give birth to our second child, we were watching game five of the National League Championship Series ("we" used loosely in all parts of this sentence). The Mets won the pennant and went on to win the World Series. (It just took me a full three minutes to figure out what that was called. All I could think of was Superbowl, and something kept telling me that wasn’t right.)
As you can see, I am a diehard baseball fan myself.
Anyway, through the years I’ve learned to appreciate the finer points of baseball, such as how to sit in the third tier of Shea Stadium and yell, “Siddown, ya bum!” loud enough for the batter to actually step back from the plate and look up to see where it came from, and I’m not making this up. I also know that Vets Stadium in Philadelphia has the best hot dogs, and that two of them plus one coke equals a year of private college tuition.
My children have also been raised to appreciate baseball and have seen their dad sing the National Anthem at Harbor Park in Norfolk, Virginia, Tim McCarver Stadium in Memphis, and USA Stadium in Millington, TN. Our family spent many a happy day at Harbor Park watching the Tides (the Mets’ AAA team) play ball against the backdrop of the Elizabeth River.
So it should surprise no one in my family that Ben has learned to multitask so as not to miss any baseball-related opportunity.
In case you can't tell, he's watching TV on his computer while baseball is on the TV. At the end of them, he'll be able to give you all the game stats as well as a full description of the show. This makes my brain hurt.
Be thankful ~