games with balls

i must say, i am impressed and somewhat bewildered with man's ability to entertain himself with a ball. because to be honest, if i were bored, i would find no value in a ball. i require a book with words. a computer with facebook. or, you know, an actual human being that i like to converse with.

my mom says i am cerebral that way.

a couple nights ago after my son's baseball game, we went out to eat with some of the other boys' families. we sit down and my husband tells me that a friend of his has invited him to join their fantasy baseball league.

"what?" i say. "would you really be playing baseball with grown men? is there travel involved?" because i'm thinking that could be nice. good exercise, male camaraderie, but i'm already seeing an issue with where the time for all this would come from. i can think all these things in about four seconds.

"no," he tells me. it's all kind of make-believe, things you can do from your computer.

"does it cost money?" that is my next question. because the words "fantasy" and "baseball" had better not be drawing any funds out of our family coffer.

there is a pause. no. no money. hmm.

he explains fantasy baseball to me. i listen to maybe .10% of what he is saying. my next question: "why is this fun?"

that question gets a laugh from the table. i did not know we were being spied upon. so then, at this point, the other men start telling me how they make lists, and check stats, and sometimes are on the fence who to pick for their lineup, how one bad choice can send them spiraling from the No. 2 spot all the way down to No. 5.

i am stunned. because these are grown men with real jobs. pretending like they are some kind of fantasy coach picking a make-believe team. and what's worse is they find many, many other men who want to take part in this. it's like grown women playing barbie dolls. but weirder.

so then, the next day, i have sack patrol at school. this is where myself and other moms watch the kids at recess and lunch to give the teachers some extra planning time. for me it provides an excellent spy opportunity. that is why i sign up for it every year. i get to see who my kids hang out with, what they do, who they sit with at lunch, all that. as an added bonus, i get to know all the other kids they talk about. who's bad, who's good, who's funny, who's odd.

my fourth grader has brought a tennis ball to school. this thrills several other boys because they are going to play "wall ball." i don't know if this is a real game or if they invented it. but they all seem to understand the rules. i, however, do not.

it seems that my son is some kind of "ref," most likely because he brought the beloved ball. they throw it as hard as they can at a wall. if you touch it but don't catch it, bad things happen to you. if you get hit in the back of the head with it, everyone will laugh. if you catch it, several people will cheer and then you get to throw it again. there is lots of movement, kind of like dodgeball, but not. sometimes you have to go touch the wall as quick as you can, and try not to get pegged. kind of like dodging a yellow, fuzzy bullet.

some girls come to watch. they are giggling and trying to push each other into the game. the boys ignore them. now, THIS is getting interesting to me. finally, a girl just puts herself right into the game and the boys all seem a little confused. why is she here? should we go easy? what is happening? they seem to tone it down a bit. but only for maybe .724 seconds.

the groups of girls will no longer be ignored. they hold hands and run, headlong, into the game. this is so much like life, i cannot even tell you. the boys ignore. they wait. the girls plot and finally just insert themselves into the scenario. now the boys are really confused. the girls are giggling and out of breath. i am 100% entertained. what will happen next?

the boys are looking at each other and shrugging. too old to tattle. too young to flirt. too into their wall ball to be inconvenienced for even one more second. they throw the ball as hard as they can, the game resumes. someone gets hit in the butt. another gets hit in the head. the girls run, screaming away. silly girls.

it's only just beginning, little girls. you will be competing with one ball or another for the rest of your life. unless you find a nice, cerebral type......