Newspaper article The Christian Science Monitor

What I Was Doing on Mother's Day

Newspaper article The Christian Science Monitor

What I Was Doing on Mother's Day

Article excerpt

How i ended up spending Mother's Day at Yankee Stadium, I'll never know. Well, that's not exactly true. I was the one who bought the tickets weeks ago, fully aware of what day it was.

Partly it was the fact that Yankee management, in its infinite wisdom, had designated May 9 as Beanie Baby Day. Although we are now four years into the Beanie Baby craze, my kids show no sign of losing interest. Partly it was the synchronicity of the two events - baseball and Mother's Day (and don't forget the Beanie Babies). I am the daughter of a man who once gave his mother a baseball mitt for Mother's Day, a man who had season tickets to the Los Angeles Dodgers for most of the 1960s. I am the girl who wore a Dodgers' No. 8, John Roseboro uniform to every Dodger game I attended, at least until I outgrew it. I am both my father's daughter and my children's mother. But most of all I am a lover of baseball games.

I am not athletic by any stretch of the most benevolent imagination. But I love the ballet of baseball, the way the game works. It's so pastoral, so theatrical: It's a lot like life. Not much happens, and then all at once - wow! -there's a line drive, a boggled ball, a stolen base, a tag at the plate. Intensity in high relief to the dreamlike state the game pretends to be. But through it all is this pulse of attention and focus that locks teammates together, even though they seem randomly scattered across a field. Which makes a baseball team more than a little bit like a family. They seem disconnected until they're called upon to pull together. Sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't. When it works, it's a beautiful thing to behold. When it doesn't, you want to look the other way. As I said, just like families. I LOVE THE baseball uniforms, the way they seem like business suits for clowns. I love the seventh-inning stretch, the singing of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game," which was supplanted on Mother's Day by the singing of "Let Me Call You Sweetheart." This was a very bad idea. For one thing, who the heck knows the words to "Let Me Call You Sweetheart"? Yes, I do happen to know them, but I am cursed with a jukebox for a brain. …

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