Take me out to the ballgame. . .

Sports Illustrated has broken the spring's "blockbuster" baseball story. A soon-to-be-released book by two investigative reporters offers up mounting evidence that Barry Bonds used steroids. I forget, was this supposed to surprise me? Oh all right, even though I'd honestly be more surprised to find out he *didn't* dope up, the sort of details I've seen revealed in snapshots of this book had me lifting my jaw up off the floor. Seriously, if nothing else, I'm having trouble imagining anyone taking Clomid for any reason other than they're trying to mend their infertile broken heart by achieving pregnancy through fertility drugs. I wonder if Bonds also found Clomid to give him hot flashes, migranes and crying outburst for unexplained reasons.

The World Baseball Classic is underway now too. I'm a baseball fan. I have no idea what's going on with the Classic. All I know is the US nearly got themselves knocked out of the competition early by getting their butts handed to them by a Canandian pitcher, whose career never tracked higher than the minors.

I also know that instead of taking the boy to his first major league game this summer, we'll be taking in a single A game. We were all set to lug ourselves into the Bronx for a mid-summer afternoon start, yet within hours of Yankee tickets going on sale for this season, they were sold out. What's a poor mom to do?

Yet all that non-excitement on the pro-side is moot. The game in our backyard is just heating up. As Logan gets closer to the big "4" birthday his imagative and non-parrell play is heating up. The more I witness his bigger-than-himself imagination take hold of his play, the more I realize he's moved from toddler to child. He's not just slapping at a ball and waiting for the applause. Today he's taking on a persona.

Like when he did this:

This hit came with running commentary. "Here comes Jeter. He hits the ball....it's a home run! Yay!! [he cheers wildly on behalf of the imagined full-stadium]. Jeter runs the bases. The Yankees win the game!"

And I clap, not for his baseball feats, but for the dreams he's living out in his mind.


mar said...

Isn't that wonderful? I know nothing about baseball, but a little boy's dreams make one's heart very soft...or at least that's a German saying which translated doesn't make much sense...Here via Michele's

Bonita in Pink said...

Awwwwwww... that is just too heart warming! I too know nothing about baseball and honestly I don't know how I once got the job as a Sports Assistant at a youth center and prepared baseball fields for games and such! LOL But it was fun lining them for sure...

From reading the little bit of your post, I can tell you're a WONDERFUL mommy. Your baby is so fornate to have you supporting his lil' dreams. *hehe*

And OMG, Clomid... don't even go there! I have to take it myself for infertility treatments and OMG, sometimes I feel like I could kill myself! hahaha. Not seriously but it really does mess with your brain dude.
It should be banned! But ah well.. I need it to try to have a baby...

I'm here from Michelle's place!
Enjoyed the read!


expatmama said...

Great photo! He looks like a real pro! They don't (really) have baseball here, but we bought a couple of gloves and a ball in the States before Pedro was born and we'll probably introduce him to the sport when he's a bit older.

kontan said...

What a hit!!! Did the camera survive?