Josh, you could have written the opening paragraphs from my own memories. Little League at 9,10—coaches by Dad—not a patient man. The crack of the wooden bat rattling up my forearms into my soul. Of course I was 10 in 1968—so metal was thankfully not an option. I’m glad you stayed the purist as a youth.
I still use the phrase when I hit my funny bone—“tingles like a single on a cold Saturday morning.” ☺️
The rest of the story informs much of who you are today and I’m grateful I read it. Thanks for sharing. 🙏
This recalled Mary Karr's own troubled lifelines to her parents, across her memoirs. To her mother, it was literature (poems). To her father, it was lie-laced stories for an audience. (For what it's worth, my own to my father is Michigan football and our Christian faith.)
Yes -- Karr and Tobias Wolff both influenced the way I wrote this essay. I suppose we all try to keep the channels of commonality open with family, especially when other differences push us apart.
Ah, thanks for the suggestion! It's going on my summer list :). Another excellent one is David James Duncan's The Brothers K. I loved it as a teen -- now I need to see if it holds up thirty years later.
Kansas -- I didn't know that you had Midwestern roots! I don't know any sport that stresses perfectionism while perpetually frustrating it more than baseball. Golf, perhaps, maybe basketball, too. But football was such a different experience, much more of a team effort, where I could sacrifice myself on behalf of a teammate. No one can shoot the ball for you in basketball, but they can set a pick or whip a perfect pass your way. Baseball is a much looser kind of collaboration -- for much of it, you are truly on your own.
Josh, you could have written the opening paragraphs from my own memories. Little League at 9,10—coaches by Dad—not a patient man. The crack of the wooden bat rattling up my forearms into my soul. Of course I was 10 in 1968—so metal was thankfully not an option. I’m glad you stayed the purist as a youth.
I still use the phrase when I hit my funny bone—“tingles like a single on a cold Saturday morning.” ☺️
The rest of the story informs much of who you are today and I’m grateful I read it. Thanks for sharing. 🙏
I switched to metal in college, but wood was better! Thanks for reading, buddy.
Do you remember Renae Carlson? That was one of her favorite books and I've been meaning to read it forever!
I do remember Renae! Good taste. I think. I still need to reread it, but it really resonated when I was a teenager.
This recalled Mary Karr's own troubled lifelines to her parents, across her memoirs. To her mother, it was literature (poems). To her father, it was lie-laced stories for an audience. (For what it's worth, my own to my father is Michigan football and our Christian faith.)
Yes -- Karr and Tobias Wolff both influenced the way I wrote this essay. I suppose we all try to keep the channels of commonality open with family, especially when other differences push us apart.
Lovely essay! I bet you'd love The Fireballer by Mark Stevens. Such a beautiful baseball book!
Ah, thanks for the suggestion! It's going on my summer list :). Another excellent one is David James Duncan's The Brothers K. I loved it as a teen -- now I need to see if it holds up thirty years later.
Kansas -- I didn't know that you had Midwestern roots! I don't know any sport that stresses perfectionism while perpetually frustrating it more than baseball. Golf, perhaps, maybe basketball, too. But football was such a different experience, much more of a team effort, where I could sacrifice myself on behalf of a teammate. No one can shoot the ball for you in basketball, but they can set a pick or whip a perfect pass your way. Baseball is a much looser kind of collaboration -- for much of it, you are truly on your own.