I have not been updating this blog like I would like to. I can blame computer crashes and nothing to really write about. Both sorta true...both not true enough.
Last Friday I took Monica to her very first professional baseball game.
She likes to tell the story about when she moved to the United States as a 12 year old and had the pleasure of her very first American Jr. High gym class. They played softball. A game she knew nothing about.
The gym teacher, being the sensitive caring type that most gym teachers are handed her the bat and chose her to go “up to bat” first.
Monica told me that she didn’t even know how to hold the Louisville Slugger so she cradled it in her arms like a baby and went and stood in the middle of Home Plate. That’s what she thought she was supposed to do. They eventually showed her how to swing the bat and she hit the ball. After she hit it everyone yelled at her to “RUN”!
I think she said she ran out towards the pitcher.
Even with all that emotional damage she loved going to see the Indians get their butts kicked by the Minnesota Twins. I think it had something to do with all the snacks that were available and the 7th inning stretch. She did not believe me when I told her that everyone was going to stand up and sing a song.
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