Gearing Up

Those of you who read the first pages of Everything Bad Is Good For You know that I was freakishly obsessed with baseball, and particularly baseball statistics, when I was a young kid. In the last few months, our just-turned-six-year-old has gotten equally obsessed with baseball, which of course is why I had children in the first place -- so I could shag fly balls and talk about the Yankees with someone. (I kid, but only slightly.)

But there's a twist here, and the twist is that while our son is definitely intrigued by the stats side of baseball, the fact that he can only read about thirty words (among them, naturally: Jeter, A-Rod, Red Sox) has limited his stats obsession, though he devours the sports pages every morning. His big obsession right now turns out to be gear. It started innocently enough when we got him a glove and uniform for his Pee-Wee baseball team this spring.

Five months later, things have gotten somewhat out of control. Every time we head out to Prospect Park for a quick game of catch before dinner, this is what we absolutely, positively MUST bring or else the whole trip is off:

1. Three gloves (one extra for his little brother)

2. Three bases and home plate.

3. Pitcher's rubber. (God forbid whoever is pitching should just stand in between first and third base without actually standing on the rubber.)

4. One batter's helmet. (I talked him down from two, arguing that with three players, no one was ever on deck, and besides we're playing with a soft baseball so we don't even need helmets at all.)

5. Shin-guards for whoever is catching.

6. Soft baseball hats for all players.

7. Baseball.

8. Two differently weighted bats.

He also insists on wearing his green and white baseball socks from his Pee-Wee uniform, pulled all the way up to his knees, which, when combined with normal clothes, has a distinctly lederhosen kind of look.

I should say, though, that yesterday we got into a pickup game on the Meadow, and one of the other kids was not only in full uniform, but was also wearing batting gloves and cleats. What a freak, right?

Comments

[Tim Walker]

As a fellow baseball obsessive and the father of a six-year-old baseball player, I can make only two* recommendations here:

1. As early as possible, get him to lose the batting gloves. Show him clips of Vlad batting, if that helps. Say things he'll take years to grasp, like "Honus Wagner didn't need batting gloves, Jackie Robinson didn't need batting gloves, and you don't need batting gloves." I have a convoluted theory that the rise of batting gloves is somehow connected to the decline of civilization as a whole. (Like you, I'm kidding only slightly.)

2. By all means, get him to keep the high knee socks. Encourage horizontal stripes, if possible. In my dream world, no baseball player would wear full-length pants, much less the baggies favored by Manny et al.

(* Leaving aside the obvious anti-Yankees jibes, since I don't usually attack others' articles of faith.)