Important things, like baseball ~ June 2, 1994

by David Heiller

 Taking an eight-year-old to a ball game is a lot like taking an eight-year-old fishing. You don’t catch many fish, but that’s OK because you don’t expect to anyway.

You hope the eight-year-old catches the fish. You hope they enjoy it and take it up as a past time. Anyone who likes to fish can’t be all bad.

That’s the way I feel about baseball. It drives my wife crazy, the biggest scuzz-ball in Pine County is all right with me if he likes baseball.

What if Jeffrey Dahmer liked baseball? Cindy will ask. She likes to throw philosophical curve-balls. Would you like HIM?

I have to stop and think about that one for a few minutes. Well, he can’t be ALL bad.

Malika on her way to the big game with daddy.
Her daddy would be so proud to know that it
 did stick, that his daughter is a Twins fan!

So I took my daughter to a Twins game on Friday night, May 27. She brought a huge appetite. She won’t eat beef stroganoff that Cindy works on for an hour on Sunday. But take her to a Perkin’s Restaurant before a Twins game and she’ll order ground steak with cheese on toast with French fires for $6.95.

At the Metrodome the prices were as crazy as her appetite. A rope of licorice for $1.25, a box of popcorn for $2.25, a glass of pop for $2.25. (Not to mention my beer, which cost $3.50.)

She was disappointed about her pop too: no straw. She asked the vendor, “Sir, do you have any straws?”

“Sorry, no straws,” he answered. What fun is it to drink pop without a straw? What kind of a ball park is this?

Malika asked a ga-zillion questions. “Did that ball that one guy hit ever come down?” she asked as we approached the stadium. I’ve told her enough times about the time Dave Kingman hit a ball in the Metrodome that never came down. It became stuck in the ceiling. The story is etched in her mind.

“No. Maybe we’ll see it tonight,” I answered.

What holds the ceiling up? Why are those guys stretching? Can I have ice cream like that girl? Why are there so many empty seats? Is this the Twins Metrodome?” Ad infinatum.

Baseball is important business.

Sometimes I would forget that I was sitting next to an eight-year-old. I’d make some shrewd baseball comment, like: “Bases loaded. Three and one count. Man he’s going to get a good pitch to hit.”

To which Mollie would answer, “I’m hungry, Dad.”

In the seventh inning, manager Tom Kelly took the starting pitcher, Kevin Tapani out of the game. I shrewdly pointed this out to Mollie. “You mean Scott Erickson isn’t going to be the pitcher any more?” Mollie asked.

“No, Tapani is pitching.”

“Where’s Scott Erickson?”

“He’s on the disabled list.”

“What’s the disabled list?”

AAAAGH!

In the eighth inning, Mollie asked, “What’s the score?” Five to two, I told her.

“Who’s ahead?”

How can you not know who’s ahead? I thought. Then I stopped. That’s when it finally sank in. I was fishing with Mollie. I didn’t need to catch any fish. I wanted Mollie to catch some fish. I wanted her to like fishing. Anyone who likes to fish can’t be all bad.

So it is with baseball. We play catch at home, and my daughter can hit the ball all right too. We go to a game once a year or so. Maybe, if the stars line up just right, she’ll learn to love the game.

She’ll remember the starting lineup of the 1987 Minnesota Twins. She might not remember her husband’s birthday, but by golly she’ll know that Joe Dimaggio hit in 56 straight in 1941. The same year that Ted Williams hit .406. The last player to hit .400. Important things like that.

Like going fishing, and taking your eight-year-old to a ball game.

[Cynthia's note: I used to ask David, "What's the score." He would answer by saying JUST the score... two numbers separated by the word to. So then I would have to ask which number was currently assigned to which team. He always thought I should just KNOW these things. Just a David-ism...]