The first official day off track, no school, and not only is it supposed to rain all week but it is. Never fear though, even the most extreme of weather can not keep us from playing ball. Itching to get a game on, the boys could wait no longer for a break in the rain. They put on their mismatched uniforms that consisted of various jerseys, shorts, short sleeved T’s, cleats and topped with ball caps and batting helmets. While I put on a heavily insulated ski jacket and snapped it up around the lower half of my face pulling the hood down over the upper half of my face. The rain still coming down at a steady pace we marched outside with glove, bat and ball in hand. Although, it was more of a rain-slush-snow-hail kind of rain. We braved it none-the-less.
There we were out in the yard our bases more puddle than plate. Hudson hit his heart out until his fingers were too cold to hold the bat and then he and Isaac set up camp in the mouth of the garage with their blankets and pillows dubbing themselves as referee and commentator.
Making up for short numbers we had to bend the rules a little. I was now pitcher. Everest up to bat and Edison took outfield.
The ball was hard to hold and would often slip out of our hands prematurely making it rather comical, especially when pitching. Wiping the rain from my eyes I threw the ball, Everest hit it square on with a splat, water spraying out from between the ball and bat, sending it over our heads. Edison with ball in hand and wet grass and leaves flying up from under his feet and sticking to his bare legs ran as fast as he could chasing his brother who was looping around bases, dodging and darting, trying not to be tagged out. He had to make home, there was no one to bat him in if he didn’t. One or the other or both would inevitable slide across the slick wet ground as if on a slip-n-slide piling up at home plate.
By now Edison too was feeling the cold and ventured inside to warm up. Everest and I were left to ourselves. Between the rain and the hood over my eyes I couldn’t see the ball to hit. We resorted to playing catch which wasn’t any easier but just as comical. Everest threw the ball high and as I jumped up to catch it with both hands well over my head, my right handed-ness overreached my left, which meant I made an unbelievable catch without a glove. A wet ball on a wet hand stings! Everest cheered and rallied himself with each pitch and catch as if we were watching the World Series in slow motion. He dove and somersaulted and leapt, dramatizing each catch.
He threw a hard high one at me. I didn’t notice him bend down to tie his shoe I was too busy getting a running start. I climbed the air like stairs. Reaching well above reach. Amazingly I caught the ball behind me as I twisted around backwards and landed solidly on the ground with the ball in glove. “Did you see that?!”, I exclaimed in mid victory dance. Still tying his shoes and with a “huh” expression shook his head no. “D’oh!” “You just missed the greatest play ever!” (No one will ever believe me. sigh)
We reluctantly headed inside, really the only reason we came in was because I had to get dinner going. It was probably a good thing though as we entered into the warmth of our home our faces began to sting and the nose-cicles began to melt as we began to thaw. No wonder we didn’t think it was that cold and played for so long. We were numb and half frost bitten.
AH but it was fun.