Phoebe at 19: A Look Back

I remember when Phoebe's baseball fixation emerged: at a Pirates vs.  Indians game in Cleveland. She just absorbed it like a little sponge, and she wanted more. It was something about seeing baseball live, in a stadium with lots of cheering fans, at night, with the lights. Something set a hook that night, and she'd be forever enthralled. June 29, 2011.

                 
Phoebe had just turned 15 in July 2011 when a mysterious box arrived in the mail. I had just gotten my first iPhone, and didn't really know how to run it. By mistake, I had my camera set to Video. Oops. I couldn't figure out how to get it back to Photo in time, so I made one of my very first videos of her opening the box. From the very beginning, Pirates centerfielder Andrew McCutchen has held a special place in her heart. Her room is full of McCutchen memorabilia to this day. So it seemed only right and proper to get her a signed baseball. Our dear friend Mimi, cousin to the delightful Pirates commentator Greg Brown, engineered it and had it sent to our house!




The backstory on this video is cool. It was so sweet of Greg Brown to send that signed ball to Phoebe, and we were so grateful, that I sent him a thank-you email with a link to the video within. Well, Greg went and found Cutch and showed him this video, and he wrote me back to tell me that Andrew got "just as emotional as Phoebe" when he saw it.

As I'm writing this, the sounds of an Allstar game are coming from the living room.  Phoebe's explaining something to Liam about how players get selected for Allstars games. Something about leagues and standings and I don't know what. She's like a walking baseball encyclopedia, and the rest of us (Bill excepted) can only look things up.

We went to two Pirates games on two successive weekends this July, in honor of Phoebe's 19th birthday. We went because she is home this summer and we sense this may be her last one here. She was adamant that she didn't want to be at PNC Park on her birthday, July 11, though, because if the Pirates happened to lose to the Cardinals on that night of all nights, she might never recover. So we watched the July 11 game at home, and it was a bloody slugfest with a thoroughly nasty and (we can only surmise) legally blind umpire who made not one but TWO hideously wrong calls that robbed the Pirates of any hope of prevailing. I have never, ever seen Phoebe as outraged, furious and inconsolable as she was when that happened. But her beloved Bucs clawed their way back and beat the Cardinals anyway with a walkoff homer by none other than Andrew McCutchen in the fourteenth torturous inning. What a birthday present, delivered well after midnight.  Figures that Cutch would have a hand in Phoebe's best birthday present, twice in a row.

The night of July 12, when the Pirates beat the Cardinals with a line drive by Gregory Polanco, whom we saw play in Charleston WV when he was on the Pirates' farm team. He looked like a baby giraffe then. He doesn't any more. We stayed at PNC on the night of July 12 until the last fan left, just basking in the glory of the win. It was the most fabulous game. Here, the two biggest Pirates fans on the planet share a victory whoop. We drove all the way home on fumes, arriving at 3:40 AM. It was worth every yawn. Plus, we couldn't afford a Pittsburgh hotel. That dough's going straight to Bowdoin.

I have Phoebe to thank for helping me understand what baseball is all about, for modeling sports fandom for someone who truly started out without a clue how to care. I get it, Fee. And I love the Pirates, too, as much as the unwashed can love a sports team. 

Oh, that ball in the 2011 video? Cutch has signed it now three times. I'm sure he enjoys seeing Phoebe grow up as much as we do. Needless to say, he remembers "Miss Phoebe" and gives her a warm greeting and a big smile each time he sees her. Well, who wouldn't?

The other great love in Phoebe's life (besides baseball) was not able to come visit for her birthday as he has the last two years. Sad face. So we felt we had to put on a little extra DOG for her this year. But psst, don't worry, I'm taking her to Boston with me when I give three talks July 21, 22 and 23 (see left sidebar for details).

Chet Baker loves to kiss Phoebe. He kisses her so much sometimes he gets a little carried away and nibbles her. We call it nibble kissing.

Sometimes he gets REALLY carried away and it hurts just a bit! You never know what that dog is going to do!

Mostly, though, he kind of collapses around her now. Resistance is futile.

That little girl has grown up. Hey 19. You're beautiful! Happy birthday! OK! I'm done now!

MASSACHUSETTS ZICK ALERT 

Tues. July 21, Cambridge : Mount Auburn Cemetery's Story Chapel, 6 pm. "Situational Awareness and the Art of Disappearing"  I'm over the moon to be speaking at this sacred place that saved me over the five years when I had to live in the city. You know, to get that book learnin'. Click here for details.

Weds. July 22, the Town of Harvard: Fruitlands, 7 pm.  Fruitlands Reads Author Lecture, "Letters From Eden" An all-new talk based on the concept of Eden, and gratitude. Click here for details.  

Thurs. July 23. Topsfield Fair, 11:30 am. Down to Earth: Massachusetts Nusery and Landscape Association Annual Conference. "Personal Habitat: The Bird-friendly Backyard," an all-new talk about making your yard an Eden for birds, and for you. Click here for details.

Pirates and Pierogies

So up we went to our seats at PNC Park to see the real live Pirates. I think Liam would have come all this way just to ride this elevator. Willya look at the gams on that girl? Phoebe was blessed with her father's legs, just like I asked the night before she was born.

Liam was on top of the world, #1. He's clutching his free T-shirt. It was T-shirt night.

Down into the deserted stands we went.

But they quickly filled up.

The game was darn good. The Pirates even led for awhile. It was awesome, until they didn't. I am trying so hard to remember who they played. The Astros? Uhmmm. I can't remember. Oh. Oh. The Arizona Diamondbacks. That's right. There were two Diamondback fans right in front of us and they were sort of wanly yelling, "Go D-Backs!" which sounded to me a lot like "Go D-bags!" which is an unfortunate choice of nicknames, if you ask me.

My remembering sports team names is like some people trying to remember the name of a flower. I have a lot of empathy for them, so I hope sports fans have empathy for me. But I watched the whole thing, and I tried like h.e.doubletoothpicks to understand what was going on and why this or that player was being a jerk or a wussy. Or why we should roar at any given moment and express our disgust and shame at another. And after the first pitch I did not even crack the book I had surreptitiously brought to read during the game. It wouldn't have been the right thing to do.

The game went into extra innings. I looked at my watch in the 11th inning and felt my heart go into my left heel. It was 11:30 pm, we had our kids with us, and we were three hours from home. I told myself that Chet was at least probably using his doggie door, and felt better for a moment. We left, in time to avoid seeing the Pirates fall by six points. Got home, having been gone almost 13 hours. Going to a baseball game in Pittsburgh is something probably best not contemplated, it's best done spur of the moment. 11:30 turned out to be a good time to leave. The D-bags squished the Pirates something like 11-6.

It was a long drive home, but we had brought bunny nest materials for the kids, who fell asleep instantly. When we got home, we wished the kids were still little enough to carry into their beds.

I have to confess that, after the giant foam finger, the thing that made my night was the pierogie race.

Overall, I was unprepared for the zany music, the different theme song blasted out for every player, the little movie clips on the Jumbotron. The whole event was pitched exactly at my level. But the pierogie race was the BEST. Bill had been telling me for years either that I run like a giant pierogie or the Oscar Meyer Wiener and at last I know what he means. Well, you try popping out two kids and see how well you run afterward.