The exercise:
Write about: the scout.
After a couple of weeks of failed attempts to get him to participate, I got Max back on the gym floor for soccer class this afternoon. I think it helped to have Kat and Miles there too. Hopefully we can get things back on track and I can start trending toward not having to be by his side for every second of it again.
Failed to mention this last night, but I potted up our tomato plants yesterday morning. Took all of about ten minutes.
I know that it will still be difficult to find the time to pay it proper attention, but I'm going to enjoy having a smaller veggie garden this summer. Miles being born at the start of growing season is the excuse, but I find it hard to imagine going back to the way things have been the last several years.
Mine:
Another day, another ballpark. Another collection of drunken cowboys watching over the hill nobodies and wide-eyed kids with more hope than talent chasing their American dreams. These guys have about as much chance of landing a contract in the Majors as I do.
What the hell am I even doing here? Right. Ricky Higgins. Head office called yesterday telling me to check him out. Said he played shortstop like Ozzie Smith and swung the bat like Jeter. After three innings of this farce of a game I'm pretty sure I got pranked. Dicks.
I light a cigarette and stuff my notepad back into my jacket. I'm in need of a beer to make this afternoon worthwhile. Make that five, actually.
On the field a pinch hitter pops out of the dugout. What, did someone finally make it past first base out there? Whatever. The kid's tall and walks to the plate with a swagger he's probably never earned, but that's not what's caught my attention.
No, that would be the hot blonde wearing the tight jersey with his number on the back. She's on her feet, yelling her head off for him. He gives her a nod and a wink before turning his attention to Lanky McNobody on the mound.
Three pitches later he's on first after a weak single through the infield and I'm on my way over to her seat. I reckon with a flash of my credentials and a few vague promises of putting in a good word for him with the big club I should have no trouble making this afternoon a little more memorable for myself.
3 comments:
It feels like it's a bit of a shame that you're reducing the size of the garden, but the demands of a young family include a lot of time so I can kind of see why. I hope that you can increase the size again later on when there's more time available (and more hands to help out!)
I kind of like your scout for his opportunistic behaviour and his preference for the spectators over the kids he's supposed to be evaluating. There's a definite honesty there that's kind of refreshing in many ways. I really like the flow you've got in the story too; it works nicely for drawing attention the right way.
Nothing from me today, sorry; it's been another twelve-hour work-day (they all are at the moment) and I've got a two-day off-site workshop to prepare for followed by a work trip to Hungary for a week. Hopefully I'll catch up a lot at the weekend between events!
Tall and lanky, the
Scout marches through life, ever
Prepared for the worst.
Greg - yeah, I think we'll try to get things a little bigger once the boys are both able to help out with things, but I doubt we'll get back up to the madness we were doing before.
Thanks for the kind words on mine. I hope that the 12 hour days ease off for you at some point. Maybe? That'd be nice, I'd think.
Morganna - that sums up scouts quite nicely, I'd say. Maybe they should adopt this as their official haiku!
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