For The First Inning

I remember as a kid watching baseball specifically on Fridays and Sundays on TV38. It was the only time we ever got to see the Sox. Before ESPN. Before FOX. Mercifully before TBS. On one particular night, there was a depressing rain delay that pushed the first pitch past my 9-year-old bedtime. My brother and I convinced our mom that we would only watch the first inning of the game as it was getting late -- even for a Friday night. 

So we set up the black and white 13-inch TV between our double beds. Our eyes ragged and bloodshot with the daily life of a 9-year-old. The tv itself was gerry-rigged with a metal hanger for bunny ears and pliers for a UHF and VHF dial. The picture could not have been clearer to us kids. HDTV does little in comparison to the privilege to stay up late and merely watch a game. To fight sleep and airplanes for the strike count. 

Anyway, on this night about a half-hour after we all but signed legal documents promising mom we'd go to bed after the first inning, mom storms into our room. She believed most assuredly we were milking her goodwill and did not appreciate our disrespect. And for a moment we were in trouble. But just as quickly we sat up in bed trying to convince mom that it was still only the first inning and that the game had just gone well for the Sox. They were scoring runs, we swore to Mom. Only after the picture returned and all was calm did she believe us. And it came on the next pitch which resulted in the final out. Mom was bad luck. Since then, she avoided making that promise.

Tonight, Isaac was fussing and crying and would not go to sleep. So I picked him up and sat him with his mother -- the only one able to pacify him. I made him a promise: you get to watch the first inning. The same ill-fated promise my mom made to us I was making to him. The images were clearer and the sound crisper and his eyes more tired than mine. He made it through Ellsbury's walk in the first. And sure enough, it was a long inning.

I'm not sure if there's something I should've learned from mom about parenting in these situations. About making promises like that that could backfire on you. But I have not. I have only learned that staying up past one's bedtime to watch a baseball game is a privilege. And that putting your hopes in something outside of your control is a cool feeling sometimes -- even though we were routing for runs more so that we could remain awake than win a game.