On the last day of this Love's Folly Nate and I stumbled into a baseball game, a High School Fall Ball league match between Easton (Orange!) and Queen Anne (Yellow!).
The level of play was solid and the field was beautiful, with green home run fences and umpires who punched out batters with gusto.We sat on the bleachers, cheering on our beloved Easton boys. "Ball!" Nate said, pointing. "Dada! Baa!"
We snacked on raisons and pretzel rods as the sun warmed our faces. I happened to be sporting Ron's camouflaged hunting baseball cap, so I blended in perfectly with the locals. When a fat latino kid belted a double over the center fielder's head and then pulled a hammy running to first, a good ol' boy (whose 17 month old girl was intensely checking Nate out) said to me, his smoker's voice gritty and gravely, "That boy can sure hit. But he's a big boy." He then let out this giant smoker's laugh and I joined him. I was just another good ol' boy watching the local kids on this gorgeous morning, gossiping about which ones might make it out of this town.
Nate and I left after the 4th with Easton trailing 6-2. Nate needed a nap.
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