In our small town, just as in many towns of any size (trying hard not to offend a soul here), there are people who don't even pretend to have social skills.
For example, last night Ricardo has his first baseball game. Due to a snaffu on my part, he didn't make it to his first practice and he's never played before. So this cute little guy, all excited for the big day, is getting his game shirt.
The coach is 8 inches away from him, directly in front of him, looking for his shirt. So I figure it is a good moment to explain things. I stand directly behind Ricardo and say to the coach, "Ricardo has never played before. He's just learning English but he's pretty bright and he'll understand most of what you say."
Now, I'm accepting a warm welcome. I'm expecting him to look up, give the new (VERY VERY CUTE) player a smile, and say something like "that's OK, we're glad to have him."
Do you know what he said? Absolutely nothing. He didn't even look up. He didn't smile. He said nothing until I finally walked away, bewildered.
So what am I supposed to assume? Is he deaf? Is he a racist? Does he just think that I'm stupid because I'm fat? Or does he just not possess a single social skill?
OK, so I'm recovering from this episode, still shaking my head slightly, and I sit down on the bleachers and start to observe my surroundings. I look up and see several women who look like they probably had their ten year olds when they were 6 or seven. They are wearing short shorts, sporting their perfect (though probably paid-for-in-a-booth) tans and giggling together in small groups.
I look up and prancing by are three chubby 4 or 5 year old girls. They look up on top of a dirt hill where a little boy their age is playing. They yell up to him, "Hey, you can't play there. There's poisen ivy." He starts to answer them, "No there isn't. It's safe up ... "HEY! Wait a minute, I don't have to listen to you. You're GIRLS!"
I was also distracted by the woman next to me who had glued on her toenails and I could tell that each one was glued on. I realize that I know nothing about glueing on toenails, but wouldn't the goal be that nobody could tell?
But we won, 25-15 in just 3 innings of machine-pitch baseball.
Baseball always reminds me of this song that brings tears to my eyes every time because it reminds me of how much God loves me no matter what:
A Song About Baseball by Bob Bennett
Saturday at the baseball field
and me afraid of the ball
Just another kid on Camera Day
when the Angels still played in LA
I was smiling in living black and white
Baseball caps and bubble gum
"I think there's a whole in my glove"
Three and two, life and death,
I was swinging with my eyes closed
holding my breath
I was dying on my way to the bench
But none of it mattered after the game
when my Father would find me and call out my name
A soft drink a snow cone a candy bar
a limousine ride in the family car
He loved me ... no matter how I played.
But none of it mattered after the game
When my Father would find mea nd call me by name
Dreaming of glory the next time out
My Father showed me what love is about
He loved me ... no matter how I played.
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