Today's Cubs game was snowed out. But hey, it's mid-April, nearly a month into Spring. Why would it be warm?My son's first practice is supposed to be Friday at 4 p.m. Since it is Wednesday night and alternating between snow and rain, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's not gonna take place...
Yesterday afternoon, I got a call from my ex. She'd been talking to my son about what new stuff he'd need for baseball this year. Since his league is banning aluminum bats, he's going to need a wooden bat...
...and since he grew like a weed over the winter, he'll need new cleats...
...and a new cup.She giggled and said he'd asked her if I could take him to get that.
Did I mention that he just turned 13?
It reminded me of his first baseball season, in 2003. He was 9 years old. During his first few practices, he let us know that he was not happy about wearing a cup. It was uncomfortable.
During one of the practices, a ball took an odd hop, and hit him right where the cup was. A little while later, he walked up to my ex- and I, looking a little stunned, and said "Man, I sure was glad I had my cup on."
He never complained about the cup again.
11 comments:
I have a similar experience. Only for females playing hockey, we call it a Jill, aka pelvic protector. One time I accidently put it in backwards and the bottom part of the triangle was sticking out instead of curving in and I said in the lockerroom, "look everyone, I have a pee-pee."
Your son and me. We're both 13.
Baseball is going here, too. Another draft post.... yikes. So much inspiration, so little time...
My poor son, his mom comes home with sports 'stuff' and the group of women try to figure out how to help him!
I realized how rough my son has it when I checked out at Sam's today. Feminine products of all types and capacities for three women, ladies razor blades, giant bottles of shampoo and conditioner, ladies shaving cream (four cans)... It wasn't hard to see that I was either shopping for a sorority house or I have daughters!
There's a special place in heaven for guys like my son, I think!
I've never played sports, but if I ever got hit in the cup on the field, I'd probably start wearing it 24/7 just to be safe.
I mean, to the mall and stuff like that.
Never be too careful...
Brian,
If I were the boy, reading this blog....I'd be a bit embarrassed. It's like writing about buying feminine hygiene products for a twelve year old.
I've never been kicked in that area. But I've seen guys hurt in that area. It's fun to watch.
aaahhh yes the lessons of the cup. My son was suppose to wear one when playing lacrosse in the youth league. He finally started to after getting hit with the lacrosse ball. He was suppose to wear a cup for football too. One would think he would learn from lacrosse, but noooo he had to learn every season. His coach had the kids hit the groin area with their knuckles so he could hear if they had a cup on. If someone did not the whole team had to do doors. Doors were running down the hill to the school building, touch the door and run back up the hill, as many times as the coach said. It was agony. My son caused quite a few doors sessions. He learned his lesson by the time he reach JV.
I worked with a guy back at NBI who was a pole vaulter. You wouldn't think they would need a cup, but his pole shattered and took the "left guy" with it! He was out before he hit the pad from the pain, and they took him to the hospital and he later had it removed.
I will guarantee every guy reading this will cringe, and the boys will be sucked up into the body cavity...
This snow in April thing is a drag. So now, in addition to everything, I've got a cold. My nose was running all day yesterday, and as for so many disappointments in life, I'm blaming it on the snow.
Kristi-
But that's a good thing...
Anon. Blogger-
I imagine you have a little better weather for it.
You son sounds like a trouper!
Mob-
It definitely makes your "package" look bigger. Might be a big plus for single guys.
Kim-
He might, but he only reads it on the weekends he's with us, I think.
It's definitely not fun. It's funny to hear and see the differing reactions when men and women see this in a movie or at a game. The girls giggle, and the guys wince, bring their knees together and yell "Ouch!"
Cheer34-
Some kids have to learn the hard way. My middle brother was one of those (in fact, he still is, he's just middle-aged now)
Skyler's Dad-
I winced just reading that. Oh, man, talk about sacrificing for the sport....
I've made the joke about something "I'd give my left nut for (fill in the blank)." I'd better stop-- it could happen.
Samurai-
That sounds like a plan. Can I use the snow for blame too?
Ouch! and to think I told everyone on my blog that you were nice, Kim...
I met a Secret Service agent years ago who could take a full-on kick to the groin, I don't know if he sucked his nuts up into his abdominal cavity or what...maybe your son could master a similar technique. Or maybe just stick with wearing the cup.
I remember going to a Cubs opener with my brother years ago, it was miserably cold and snowy, but they didn't call the game. We ended up watching the game at a gin mill by inning 3.
Deadspot-
Now you know what I live with....
Bubs-
Oh. My. God. I have an an almost identical story.
My brother, one year (I think it was 1989) insisted in this fit of "family togetherness" he was going through, that he needed to take me to a Cubs game on my actual birthday. My birthday is May 11-- I never go on my birthday. I learned through hard experience through my childhood, wanting a birthday at Playland Park, an amusement park, that the weather always sucked on my birthday. Sure enough, it was about 35 degrees and blowing a gale that day. And of course, being the procrastinator that he is, despite my offers to walk the block and a half it was from my house to Wrigley Field (it was when I was living in my fabled Wrigleyville apartment with Dan and Mark) and buy tickets so that we would be closer to the field (and in a relatively wind-shielded place) insisted that he'd show up early that day and we'd get good tickets and everything would be okay.
Of course, he showed up late, as always-- how he got a PhD at University of Chicago is beyond me-- and we got tickets in literally the second to last row in the grandstands-- the second highest seats in the house (second only because nobody had had the bad sense to buy tickets in the last row). Me, my girlfriend at the time, he, and his wife at the time, sat there bundled up like Eskimoes and were still starting to lose feeling in our extremities. I was afraid to even have a beer for fear of losing more feeling. Finally, in the middle of the third inning-- that must be some kind of "I did it" milestone-- I talked him into all of us running down to the late, great Wrigleyville Tap and watching the rest of the game on television while we added antifreeze to our systems.
As I recall, by the sixth inning we could feel our hands and feet again.
And of course, by about the eighth, we couldn't feel them again.
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