November

Matthew 13.
Hindsight is 2020.

Friday, March 14, 2014

Funny Guy Friday... Click click... click click... click click...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     Click click... click click... click click... click click... click click...
     They came in the mail.
     Click click... click click... click click... click click... click click...
     And they are REDONKULOUS!!! (yes... redonkulous is a word meaning awesomely awesome).
     Click click... click click... click click... click click... click click...
     What are they, you ask?
     Click click... click click... click click... click click... click click...
     They are Matthew's new metal baseball spikes.
     Click click... click click... click click... click click... click click...
     Matthew is thirteen now and can wear metal cleats.
     This may sound silly to those of you who never played baseball, but one of the greatest days of any young player's career is the day that he can wear metal spikes.
     Why's it such a great day?
     Is it because you get much greater traction than with those old molded cleats that you used to have to wear? Is it because they allow you to get to more ground balls than you used in those old molded cleats that you used to have to wear? Is it because they come in much cooler colors and designs than the old molded cleats that you used to wear? Can you jump higher in metal spikes than you could when you had to wear those old molded cleats?
     No... no... no... and no!
     To be clear, they do give you better traction. They do probably allow you to get to more ground balls. They may come in cooler colors and designs (more on that in a moment), and they may allow you to jump higher. I mean you start a little higher because of the spikes, so it stands to reason you get higher when you jump.
     The thing is that none of those things matter.
     No... it is such a great day because metal spikes make the coolest sound ever when you walk on tile, concrete, blacktop, or hardwood... although, I wouldn't recommend walking on the hardwood.
     I came home early on Tuesday and the box was there. I went to open it and Cheryl asked whether I shouldn't wait until Matthew came home from school.
      Of course not... it has my name on the box!
      Yes, but you know it's Matthew's new shoes.  
      I don't know for sure... it could be something for me. 
      Did you order something for yourself?
      No... but it has my name on it! I have to run out for a while, so I won't be here when he gets home... and I don't want to wait. Case closed... but the box is open!
      I had a twinge of remorse after I opened them and examined them, so I packaged them back up and re-taped them. The only problem was that I didn't have any packing tape, so I had to use scotch tape. I thought: Matthew is a bit of a dope, so he'll never notice.
      Unfortunately, he's not that much of a dope. He did notice. In fact, he made me feel even worse when I called to ask if he liked his new cleats and he said, I haven't opened them yet, I am waiting for you to get back home. By the way, nice tape job! 
      Ouch! 
      We went a different route this year. Traditionally, we are a dedicated lover of the Nike product  with an occasional tryst with Under Armour. This year we went completely off the plantation and selected the high-top New Balance Pedroia 4040BR2s... and they are SWEEEET!
      We like Dustin Pedroia, but he has nothing to do with our selection, unless of course he designed the darn things. And if he did design them, he is not only the best second baseman in baseball, he is the Calvin Klein of baseball. The Yves Saint Laurent of baseball. The Giorgio Armani of baseball. If he designed these babies, dare I say, he is the Babe Ruth of baseball cleat design.
      They are red, black, and white, with a little camo working throughout!
      I love 'em!
      Now if you think that I am getting a little overly excited about a stupid pair of cleats that I will never wear you'd be wrong because I did wear them. Those babies were out of the box and on my feet and clicking away on our kitchen tile in no time flat. I was disappointed because they were a half size too small. They did fit Matthew, so I begrudgingly allowed him to keep them.
     I was not alone in my excitement.
     Cheryl also loved them! In fact, she mentioned that she is not a lover of the cleat but these were so pretty. Pretty is not a word one uses to describe spikes, but I think you get the point. She couldn't stop talking about them and would not stop staring at them. She used to look at me like that... but I wasn't jealous... I completely understood.
      Wide-eyed, she kept gazing at them... turning them 'round and 'round... commenting that they are a boy's version of Dorothy's ruby slippers... only with spikes!
      Their (the cleats) first practice was scheduled for Wednesday night. I worried aloud whether or not this was a good idea.
      I mean... shouldn't we take it easy on them for their maiden voyage? Maybe a game of catch in the front yard? Or maybe wear them for the stretching part of practice in the outfield... away from the dust of the infield... and then put the old ones back on for the dirty part of practice. They are going to get dirty if you wear them out on that field. And there is a strong possibility that it is going to rain tonight! I say wait a few days.
      Dad, they are baseball cleats. They're going to get dirty no matter what I do.
      Yeah... but they're so... pretty!       
      The night was a complete disaster. I am not sure how Matthew played, and frankly, I don't care. He wore the cleats and it rained. First time out and they got all muddy. I should have put my foot down! I should have put on those cleats and put my foot down... of course not on the hardwood floors... and forbade him to wear them!
      As a parent, you make a million decisions for your kids and my decision to allow him to wear those cleats on Wednesday night was one of the worst!
      Look, as parents, we always like to take a bad situation and fix it for our kids. And although Matthew didn't seem like he actually cared... and he didn't actually ask me to do anything about it... I knew deep down he was hurting. Think about it, who wouldn't be upset by this cruel twist of baseball cleat fate. I had to do something.
      I knew I had to step in and save the day!
      I took an old rag and cleaned them up... good as new.
      Click click... click click... click click... click click... click click...
      And guess what...
      Click click... click click... click click... click click... click click...
      They still work!

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