Friday, April 10, 2009

Oh, the Drama or, The Cursed Cup

For the record, I never wanted Ethan to play Little League baseball.

As it turns out, he might actually be good. Not "start sending out the talent scouts" good, but good enough that he doesn't drag the team down, which was what I feared might happen. (Ethan's lucky to have such a supportive mom, isn't he?)

In the meantime there's a lot of driving, plenty of buying, a little fund raising, way too much required involvement, organizing, reminding and pestering (i.e. "go get changed for baseball practice," "let's get in the get in the car," "do you have your water bottle? Don't forget your water bottle.")

Little League is a lot of work.

Last night was the first game of the season. It was also the first time that Ethan used a "cup" while playing. (Evidently he was supposed to have a cup all along, but no one said anything to me and how in the world was I supposed to know?)

I purchased the cup which was size "youth." The other size options were "pee wee" and "teen."

Minutes before we were supposed to leave for the game, Ethan finally gives in to my pestering and starts to get his uniform on. Right away, there is a problem.

The cup is uncomfortable. It hurts. He's in pain. Mortal pain, or so it seems.

He starts to become upset. He claims he can't run, stand, sit, bat or catch wearing the cup. He doesn't want to go to the game.

This is not what I want to hear.

Robert is not home from work, we need to leave in 15 minutes to get to the game, and I'm starting to chant "I hate stupid dumb baseball" in my head.

I tell Ethan to get dressed anyway and wear the cup and that I would try and figure something out. Of all the parenthood things I am not prepared for, "proper athletic cup fitting" makes the top of the list, hands down.

Robert comes home from work and is unfortunately almost as clueless about the cup as I am, which is really not fair, since this falls cleanly into his section on the Venn diagram of parental responsibility.

I finally decide that I will drive from store to store (did I mention this was during rush hour?) to find a cup in a bigger size, then come directly to the game where Ethan will hopefully be able to make a discreet change-out. This is when I may or may not have added swear words to the silent "stupid-dumb-baseball" chant in my head.

Two stores later, I've got a new cup. Of course this whole thing is a joke because, as mentioned earlier, the next cup size up is teen. But, I decide this is an exercise in martyrdom, so I persevere. I purchase the teen sized athletic cup and drive to the game which is under way.

Here's what I find:

Ethan, in the dugout, with his teammates, in the line up to bat. He's smiling, he's showing interest in the game, and laughing with his teammates. He's not walking funny or crying or moaning in pain.

Hmm, interesting.

And Ethan did great. He batted twice and each time hit a line drive right between first and second. The first time he scored, the second time he had the RBI that ended the game.

I still don' t love baseball, and I expect that over the coming weeks I will probably hate it again. For now, let's just say that as far as I'm concerned, baseball's got one strike.


Erika said...

Uh oh...I didn't know they need to wear cups! I never even thought about it. You mentioning cups makes me think of Cheaper By The Dozen when the girl is emptying the dishwasher and there's a "cup" in the top rack and she freaks out and throws it and it lands in the pasta sauce cooking on the stove--they then have "Pasta de la Crotch." Love it. As frustrating as it all is, doesn't it make you so happy to see your son do good? Hopefully he'll appreciate all you're doing for him--someday!

Barbara said...

Oh my gosh...this takes me back! Now my grandchildren are buying cups and playing at this and that. I love your blog and the variety of topics. I finally have gone to three for musing, one for travel and another for opinions. It is fun but tiring at time. Come on over and see me. I am from Hillsboro, Oregon

Debbie said...

As usual this was SO FUNNY!!! I forgot to say how funny the Light saVER was too! I was laughing so hard I read the dialog three times!!!

I need more details! Was he just not used to it but the size was ok afterall? Did you find out why one minute he was in mortal pain and a few minutes later he was fine?

Is this a rite of passage like the first time a girl shaves her legs or wears nylons?

Tara said...

This is too funny and so how it goes! My Ethan has been wearing a cup since T-Ball. During the 2nd or 3rd game of T-Ball, he actually got hit in "the round tables", as he calls them. He was so mad at us. We got a cup that afternoon.
And T-Ballers wearing a cup are very funny, at least ours were, because they use it to play the drums while they are standing around waiting for some action, which in T-Ball, there's not much of.
Anyway, fast forward to today... Ethan has amply warned Ryan, so Ryan will never play one game without a cup.