Opening day

So Team A had its first practice/game tonight, and I think it went pretty well. Samson, who is usually brutally honest, told me he had fun.

I don't really have anything to report. Other than the fact that for reasons I can't even begin to fathom, our team has me for a coach while Team B has a guy who used to play minor league ball and who has no kid in the program. Weird. We were running the bases while his squad was working on sacrifice bunts.

OK, not really, but I wondered if this was some kind of little league community service for parents who get ornery in the stands at the upper age levels.

Anyway, Vicki and Jane braved a cold and windy night to watch their guys on the field, and Vicki got a perfect photo of our team.

I wish I could take credit for lining them up at that well, but at that point, I was in the infield making sure our runners advanced from first to second base and so on. It's not as easy as it sounds...

Paging Morris Buttermaker

I mentioned in my last post that we'd signed Samson up for tee ball and that it would be starting soon. Apparently it starts tomorrow night. The league coordinator is not, um, coordinated about schedules and stuff like that.

Also, apparently, I am the coach. [Where's Walter Matthau when you need him?] It started innocently enough: We got an e-mail from the league coordinator with a roster and a note that said the team needed some parents to help out and be "assistant" coaches. Sure, I thought. Why not?

Now I never played tee ball as a kid [see: parents; see also: sports agnostics], but I love playing ball outside with Samson. And while I can't take any credit for his good hand-eye coordination and solid swing, there is almost nothing I'd rather do than be part of his tee ball experience. So I e-mailed the league guy to say I'd be happy to help and was told to show up last Thursday night for "coaches clinic" at 6:30 pm.

I came right from work and arrived about 15 minutes early. So I headed into the elementary school gym, which the school custodian kindly told me was where the meeting would be. So far so good.

Finding myself alone and with some time to kill [an occurrence almost as rare as Halley's Comet], I figured I'd take a seat and get some reading done. Since I'm no longer in school, I've been trying to challenge myself with books I should have read by now and was some 600 pages into Ulysses and struggling to finish before it was due back to the library. By the time I realized no one had shown up, it was 6:40. So now, I was not only late, but I was lost.

The meeting was in full swing --- outside --- when I arrived, still in my suit and with a copy of Ulysses with me. Nothing like starting off on the right foot.

I'm guessing the first order of business was picking team colors, because by the time I got there, all that was left was lime green or brown. And I'll be honest, I went for the brown first. One of the head guys there said: "You're really going for brown?" To which I replied, "Sure, why not?"

His answer: "In all the years I've been doing this, no one has ever picked brown."

So we'll be wearing lime green. And black hats. Which, to be honest, is fine. I'm sure the kids won't care, and we'll know where each of them is at all times.

It's a good thing I did show, late or not, because I was the only one from our team there, hence my rapid promotion from guy willing to help to guy with equipment bag full of balls, bases, hats, shirts, and a brand-new tee that smells like the plumbing section of Home Depot. [Seriously, what kind of rubber do they use for those things?]

Samson and I got out today and practiced a bit with the tee (a perq of being the coach's kid). And although the bat is a little heavy for him, I think he'll be just fine. Half the kids on the team are friends of his, which is nice because it means I can enlist lots of help from the parents who are there. I think this is going to be good.

Stay tuned...

Custom of the country

I grew up on Long Island, and lacrosse is sort of a big deal there. But here in Maryland, it's pretty much a religion. And Samson has already caught the fever.

[That said, we signed him up for tee-ball for this spring. He's still too young for youth lax here, and while he likes playing in the backyard with me, something tells me that baseball --- in all its pastoral glory --- may be a little more his speed. I mean, he liked soccer (keep your eye on #5 in the photos), but I think he's really temperamentally suited for the dugout.]

Still, we take the sticks out and play at the park. Jane has shown little interest so far, which makes sense. For one, she's only just learned to walk a few months ago.

And for two, it involves her brother running around (sometimes at her) with a big stick in his hand.

But she really liked throwing to him.

Jane's Vanilla Sky

On the weekends, the reservoir near our house is closed to traffic. Which means it's a perfect place for biking, running, and walking.

It also means you really need to give people context before sharing your pictures...

Redshirt Sammy

Because this is Samson's second go in the three-year-old class, some of the things he is doing are repeats from last year. Like the class play.

[I should explain: He's got a late birthday, and since we knew he'd need to repeat one year somewhere along the way, we figured it might as well be this one. He'll be five about to turn six when he enters kindergarten, which I'm ok with. I've yet to go on a job interview where they asked if I was a "true kindergartener." And let's be honest, it's not like he's a giant, aggressive kid or anything. His class was learning about weight for their science lesson last week, and so everyone got weighed. Despite being one of the oldest kids in his class, he was still on the light end of the chart. I digress.]

Unlike last year (when he was a flower), this year he had a "lead" role: Baby Bear. Of course after a few minutes of wearing the mask, he decided to put it up it like a visor. I'm pretty sure this was so he could more easily pick his nose, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt and assume this is the early mark of a Method actor. [Seriously, Brando wouldn't use a bear mask, right?]

Interestingly enough, their music teacher --- in addition to being the director, narrator and having the patience of Job --- has a fairly thick Russian accent. Which leant a little extra something special to the story of "Goldeelux" and the bears.

All in all, a terrific way to start the morning.

My two

We were at the reservoir yesterday (more pics to follow). It was a crisp spring day, and even as Vicki was taking this picture, I knew it would be a keeper.

I have no idea what they were talking about, and I'm sure they forgot 10 minutes after themselves. But there is something (at least for me) profoundly special in the capturing of this very ordinary moment in time.

Madness (not the band)

It's the time of year again when I care about college basketball. This year, rather than simply leaving my bracket picks up to what little hoops knowledge I have, I thought I'd outsource the job. Enter Samson.

Tonight after dinner, we sat at the table, and I explained the idea of the tournament and then asked him to make his picks. I have to say, for a child who has watched less than 3 minutes of college basketball, he did a great job. To be perfectly honest, I was impressed that he sat still with me for that long.

I read each match-up and then asked him to make a choice. I'm pretty sure he based each pick on name alone (which would explain his faith in American to reach the Sweet 16). And while I'm not terribly optimistic about his Robert Morris pick over the Spartans, I think he's right about local favorites Morgan St. might pulling the upset over Oklahoma.

I've now just about exhausted all the tourney talk I'm capable of, and if I could figure out how to put his bracket up as a file I'd gladly share it with you.

That said, I can give you his final four: Kansas, Washington [which Jane kept calling "WashyerHANDS" every time we said the name], Duke, and Western Kentucky.

He's got the final as a match-up between Washington and Duke, with Duke winning the whole thing.

So there you have it. Let the games begin...

The wearing of the green

So I've been far too busy doing actual work at work to be able to post. And at night, well, if I don't fall asleep while reading Samson a story, I've been falling asleep shortly thereafter while trying to get through Ulysses.

But I'm back, and on a night I would --- in years gone by --- have been out until the wee small hours of the morning, I find myself blogging. It's nice to be back. As my good friend Jared once said: "19-year-old you would hate mid-thirties you." He's probably right, but I'm just as glad to be here on the couch and feel like the fact that I'm awake is a minor St. Patrick's miracle. I lead a very full life.

Lots has transpired in the past few weeks: Jane is now speaking in full sentences; Samson has discovered Tom and Jerry; and we finally got a fix for what was a really frustrating inability to download photos from our camera.

I'll do my best to be on top of this again, and I figured I'd get back in the swing with a few pics of the kiddoes. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Mea culpa, a haiku

All apologies
New job and freelance project

I will post more soon...