Charlie, who turned 11 months old on Wednesday, reached an important milestone this evening: clapping for our favorite team.
Today it was the Brewers, who came back and beat the loathed Cubs. When Rickie Weeks tied the game with a double over clueless left fielder Alfonso Soriano, I clapped and let out a muffled "Yeah" (Jana was napping). I looked over at Charlie, making a mess of himself with dinner, and for the first time I saw him clapping, beaming with an ear-to-ear smile. What a moment!
When the Brewers won a few minutes later we clapped again.
Thus far Will hasn't had the patience to sit through entire Badger games with me, but he's been getting lately. As a father with an interest with sports, you desperately want your sons to share your passion on some level. If it doesn't turn out that way, so be it, we'll find some other way to have fun together. But I so want the boys to Jump Around, sing Varsity with me ... do the ES-FU chant. Maybe not that last one.
Today was a tiny glimpse of that happening.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Clap your hands
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2 comments:
Great story, T. I feel your pain about getting your kids to watch games with you. The problem I'm having with Zach is that when he sees baseball, he wants to PLAY baseball. So I flip the Brewers on and he magically appears with baseball bat and ball in hand yelling "pitch, pitch, pitch". This is fun of course, but a recipe for missing a lot of game action...
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