A Baseball Free Agent

Some of my favorite baseball movies have characters with funny superstitions and odd things they do for good luck before a big game. Major League. Bull Durham.

My nine year old wants to play baseball, but doesn’t have a team. As a free agent, he therefore had to participate in a two-hour try-out so that all the coaches could see his skill level and then spread the free agents out across the league in a way that makes the teams fair.

That morning when I walked into his room, he was wearing a pair of camouflage underwear that is way too small.

“I think it’s time to throw those away.”

He looked aghast, “But they’re my lucky underwear. I have to wear them to tryouts.”

When he came downstairs ready to go, he smiled, pointing to the different parts of his wardrobe. Lucky. Lucky. Lucky. He was decked out in his lucky Kansas City Chiefs socks, his lucky necklace that he made in art class, his lucky baseball cap, and of course, his lucky underwear.

And then he went out and had a really fun time playing ball. “I maybe could have played better,” he said at the end of the day, “but it was good enough for me.”

He may not make it into the Majors, but he would be a much-loved character in a baseball movie.

Lucky Underpants

My third grader was struggling to get ready for school this morning, nervous after a meltdown with friends yesterday. With two minutes before departure, I entered his room to find him still wearing pajamas and wrapped in his blue baby blanket. When I entered, he covered his head with a pillow.

“You’re not dressed? We have two minutes!” before I realized we needed a more tender approach if we were going to get out the door.

I grabbed his clothes and tossed him his underwear. “Orange star underwear!” I announced playfully as he caught them.

His mood brightened immediately. “But these aren’t my lucky underpants.”

I didn’t know he had lucky underpants.

“Do you need them today?”

“Can’t. Wore them yesterday. They’re the camouflage ones. I’ve had them since I was four.”

“So you need new underwear.”

“Nope. My lucky underpants are perfect.”

The Luckiest Guy

Our middle son climbed into the car looking a bit shaken. While we waited for his brothers to trudge down the carpool line, I asked if he was okay.

“It’s weird. My friends who have sisters keep telling me how lucky I am that I have brothers,” he paused. “Who knew?”

He was dead serious.

“Their sisters just stay in their rooms all day, and they don’t want to do anything.”

“Well, some girls like to do different things than you guys do, and they might not want to talk about football 24/7.”

He just shook his head, “I’m lucky,” still bewildered. “Who knew?”