Noise in the Shape of Writing

Tomorrow, in honor of Fathers Day*, I am going to hit a small lump of leather as far into the teachers parking lot as I possibly can. I do this to make my daughter proud.

"That's braggin when you say you can hit the softball further than the other dads."

I cannot deny her logic. After all, she is not allowed to say "My Kirby flame-breathed your Mario off the Pokemon Cloud! I rock! I rock!"

But then that's mostly cause I am a poor sport. She really does kick my ass most of the time. Using Kirby, anyway.

The little pink puffball will not be my menace tomorrow, however. Instead, it is the diamond. I get a chance to swing a baseball bat about once a year, usually. And this year since I missed Aaron's anual birthday softball game, this is my "one." I aim to hit that sucker as far as I can.

But, with "as far as I can" meaning for all intents and purposes "well off of school grounds," I have myself a dilemna. Any yes, this is a small school yard. I'm no Babe Ruth.

Add to this the fact that there is a school bully who is making my daughter's life hell right now and whose father is probably boing to be in on that diamond in pinstripes with a cap.

Is it wrong to want to target someone? Who's the player who would point his bat towards the leftfield wall and wail away? Hey, honey, is that the boy who you want me to teach the ever lovin meaning of "always wear a cup?" Why are we being sent home early today? Because it's a father/daughter special dispensation.

Who says the sporting spirit is gone.

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*BTW, thanks a lot, Greg, for making me doubt whether Fathers Day has an apostrophe... razzafrackin plural possessive proper words... makes me wanna take a jump off of Lover's Leap.