Last night I got to go down and hold my son for over an hour while Rachel rested up in the room. She had just gotten to feed Malorie, and so I was feeling a little left out, and went down for some male bonding time. Micah’s nurse was the same woman as the night before, so she allowed me to change him and take his temperature, since she had already taught me how. Then I got to hold him.
When I held him, I was striving to keep talking and touching him, reassuring him that I was there and loved him. As the hour wore on, I was searching for more things to say, so I started talking about one of the things I know well, Cubs baseball.
I decided to take him around the horn, and teach him about the Cubs starting infield. I started at first base, with the Cubs captain and my favorite player, Derek Lee. I told him how Lee is a great hitter, both for power and average, and how he is a Gold Glove winning defender. I also told him what a stand-up guy he is, and I hope he learned that even people who seem to have everything can still manage to keep humble. I then proceeded to tell him about Aramis Ramirez, the clutch hitting All Star third baseman who is suffering through a miserable, injury plagued season. My hope is that he gleaned that even the best have a rough time occasionally. Then I told him about the catchers, Geovany Soto and Koyie Hill. I told him how Hill accidentally sawed off three fingers on his throwing hand in an accident a few years ago, and yet still manages to throw out forty percent of runners trying to steal on him, in hopes that Micah would learn that no one will ever feel sorry for him and so he must be strong despite his handicaps and mistakes. We also chatted about Soto, the National League Rookie of the Year last year who now finds himself just fighting for playing time, to teach him that nothing is guaranteed in this world. Next I moved onto shortstop, and Ryan Theriot. I told him how Theriot does nothing exceptionally but plays hard everyday and thus has become a fan favorite. My hope is that he recognizes the need to give his all, and then good things will come.
Finally, I started describing second base for the Cubs. I was searching for a positive thing to say about the Jeff Baker/Mike Fontenot/Aaron Miles platoon. I was dying to find a lesson in describing Baker, a middling prospect who is barely hitting his weight. And I was working hard to give a positive spin to Fontenot, a player who is better used off the bench than as a starter. And I was just trying not to curse when thinking about Aaron Miles, who I would like to see the Cubs trade for a bag of sunflower seeds and a pair of sneakers. It was then that Micah summed up my thoughts exactly by letting loose a monstrous, gassy poop. It was in Micah’s thunder-dump that I realized he had just taught me the best way to describe the Cubs pitiful second base play. How a child who has not eaten anything in his life found something to poop is beyond me, but all I can say is good talk, Micah, good talk. I’m glad you like baseball too.