Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Friday, October 24, 2014

The Butt of the Game

Take me out . . .

I love baseball.
In fact, if I was to think about it, baseball is probably my favourite sport.
My mom was a helluva heckuva player.
I don't know if I ever equalled her ability.
Though I sure enjoyed trying.
But did you know that baseball and self-image go together?
Well, they do.
In my grade twelve year, I boarded for a few months with my best friend Debbie's family while attending school in Magrath, Alberta.
I should mention that her family were . . . characters.
Moving on . . .
During that time I played, along with Debbie, for the Del Bonita team.
It was a blast.
And we made a respectable showing in the league.
One afternoon, we were back at Debbie's house.
Celebrating a win.
I was euphoric (Oooh! Good word!) because I had hit a three-bagger that had brought in two runs.
The team hero.
Well, in my eyes, at least.
Debbie's parents had watched the game.
And were enjoying re-hashing it with us.
Her dad sat back and took a deep, satisfied breath. “Yep. That was a good game,” he said. He looked at me. “It's a good thing you joined the team.”
I smiled, feeling quite satisfied with myself.
He looked at his daughter and grinned. “Yep. Until you came, Debbie had the biggest . . .”
He paused.
I waited. Was he going to say hit? Arm? Throw?
Hero ability?
“ . . . butt on the team.” He looked back at me. The grin widened. “Now she has the second biggest.”
“Hey!” I said, my euphoric bubble bursting abruptly.
He laughed. “What makes you think I was talking about you?”
“Hmph!”
“But it was a good game,” he said.
I stared at him, narrow-eyed.
Did he really mean it?
Did I have a big butt?
I looked down at my 28 inch waist men's jeans.
Did they hide a monstrous backside?
He laughed again, got up and left the room. “Yep. Good game.”
“You don't, Diane,” Debbie said.
“What?” I looked at her.
“You can stop checking. You don't have a big butt. In fact, you don't have a butt.”
“Oh. Ummm . . . okay.”
“And you played a good game. That's just Dad's way of telling you.”
“Oh.”
Did I mention that her family was quirky?
To this day, when I see a well-played baseball game, I think of . . . good plays.
You thought I was going to say big butts, didn't you?
Nope. That I save for when I'm playing.
Sigh.

17 comments:

  1. Ah haha haha! Sounds like dinner conversation at your place...!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think the Giants could use your mom tonight.

    ReplyDelete
  3. LOL, I LOVE quirky. Your friends' dad had a great sense of humor . . . and may be liable for your self-esteem therapy session, btw.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hmmm . . . thank you for that. I'll send him a bill . . .

      Delete
  4. Another LOL one on this story. I love baseball too and was practically raised on a baseball field. My Dad coached a town team and my brothers played for years and they all came home and rehashed the game over and over. I was little but I remember I was bored with the rehash. Loved this one and blessings for the laugh!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. But the rehash is so much fun! Who did what. Who missed what. And all washed down with ICE CREAM. Mmmm . . . okay, maybe I'm just remembering the ice cream . . .

      Delete
  5. "Bat". I'm sure he meant to say that you had the biggest "bat" on the team . . . . . .

    Anonymous Husby-Coach Figure

    Brain? Smile? Eyes? I'm sure he meant "bat" . . . .

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hmm ... I'm not much for anyone poking fun at anyone else's looks. Must think of comeback for you (a bit late, but never mind) ... thinking, thinking ...

    ReplyDelete
  7. I love this, Diane! I swear, you tell family stories better than most writers I know. I totally thought you were going to say "big butts" at the end, hahaha!

    ReplyDelete
  8. hahaha! My hubby loves to tell people that his wife suffers from Assitol disease. The he chuckles and says "She has no ass at all" hardee har har!

    ReplyDelete

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