Rejected by baseball but chosen by love

I was on the front porch when you drove by and I waved, happy that there is so much good news to share. According to the journal “Science Advances” there are more gorillas and chimpanzees in equatorial Africa than previously believed with over 360,000 gorillas and over 100,000 chimpanzees. The scimitar-horned oryx has been brought back from extinction and in a "bold and historic moment," white storks are set to be reintroduced to London for the first time in 600 years. Plus, a study by the University of British Columbia shows that people who regularly exercise have improved memory skills --- walk a mile every day and never misplace your car keys again.

This is science, folks. Not political yammering. These facts were established by people who can actually count.

I have learned that you can have a happy day by ignoring national televised news programs and pay attention to the quick program segments about science, life, and humor. Someday I hope to hear about a study that shows kids exposed to baseball in grade school can expect longer well-balanced lives. That would be me --- exposed to baseball but never part of it.

From the third through eighth grade, I tried to establish a presence in school baseball and it was a brutal lesson in life.

Boys would gather on the playground during recess or after school and two popular athletically endowed guys would choose teams. I stood there, self-conscious, a small thin kid with big dark rimmed glasses, and was always the last chosen. Sometimes I wasn’t even chosen, simply sent to a team by default due to being the only one left. One time everyone walked away to their respective teams leaving me standing alone --- with each team having an equal number of players, I was simply forgotten. That’s a cannon broadside that leaves your sails in tatters.

There was no self-esteem therapy in those days, no meds for the emotionally bruised, so a kid hitched up his pants and put on a brave face. In short, you dealt with it.

Five years of my peers treating me as an undesirable had an effect on me. I learned rejection came with life and so did flaming acne. You prayed one day someone would look into the crowd, see your face, ignore the others, and choose you.

It finally happened to me by way of a public-school teacher, 36 years ago this month --- a person trained to deal with children, over-bearing parents, and all the disappointments state education officials can throw at you. She chose me by saying ‘OK’ to a marriage proposal and has kept me on her team ever since. She’s tough, having raised three boys has enabled her to produce looks of disapproval that can open an oyster at twenty paces. She is well-versed in common sense and knowledgeable in the care and feeding of an absent-minded husband. She follows sports (the New Orleans Saints and Carolina Panthers, respectively), and has the culinary skills to make boiled cardboard taste delicious.

My skills are limited, but she says I’m good at reaching things on high shelves and removing the occasional trapped dead mouse from our back porch. Other than that, I stay out of the way.

Our marriage is one of checks and balances. I say I think a pool table would be nice in the living room and she says “Not today.” Thus, there is no pool table in our living room. In a restaurant she points discreetly to her chin, nods to my napkin, and I smile a grateful “thank you” and wipe the potatoes au gratin off my chin.

The batter that hits a homerun with the bases loaded is a hero, but I was chosen by a hero, and that’s even better. It is good to be noticed and your presence appreciated. The chimpanzees, gorillas, and storks now live longer and have better lives because of this, and so do I. Life is good.