Sunday, June 13, 2010

Shot to the Heart (One Sixty-Two: Day 52)

Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.

Day Fifty-Two: Mark Reynolds, Arizona Diamondbacks

I got one, and didn’t even see it coming. And my, did it ever make my day.

It started with a line drive over the wall. Katie and Chelsea were outside, and I asked if they wanted to hit some balls. “Sure,” Katie said. I took out a half-dozen Wiffle balls and a bat, and Katie stood at the plate. The 8-year-old knocked a few pitches the opposite way, and realized that she could see the ball much better when she kept her back foot in place.

Chelsea followed next, and when she faced the right way, the 5-year-old took some decent swings as well. She even hit one all the way back to her dad. But after a couple of minutes, Chelsea had hit enough.

Now it was my turn. Katie grabbed a few balls and threw me some pitches. I saw one down in my wheelhouse, and just couldn’t help myself – off the little plastic ball went, gliding over the fence like a Mark Reynolds home run out in Arizona. (Last night, the mighty Diamondbacks slugger launched his 15th of the year.) As we watched the ball fly over the wooden fence, Katie and I smiled. Time for a walk around the block.

We took the dog with us and walked together to retrieve the ball from our neighbor’s yard. On the way, we talked about the birthday party Katie had attended earlier in the day. We spoke with a closeness that seemed forged in part by our batting practice in the yard. We had only played ball for a few minutes, and our walk was just as short. But Daddy had pulled himself away from the computer, the grading and the household chores for a while and played some ball with his girls.

So as we turned the corner on our way back home, Katie looked over her shoulder at me. “I love you,” she said.

Bam – a shot to the heart, stronger and more majestic than any home run I’ve ever seen. I told her I loved her, too. We walked together, in the fading sunlight. We were finished playing ball for the night, and it was time for dessert. As for me, I’d received something sweeter than anything we could eat. I got an “I love you.” And I kept it.

1 comment:

Karen thisoldhouse2.com said...

Warren, I hope your daughter reads this about 20 years from now.

I will mean the world to her.