I remember watching my dad's softball games. I usually didn't sit and watch the whole thing though. I used to sit in the dugout with him. There would always be a couple bags of spitz. We never got spitz at home, so when I was at those games I would make sure to capitalize on the opportunity to indulge on the flavored sunflower seeds. I remember filling my pockets and then walking around my school (where the diamonds were), mouth full of spitz, talking with my friends or my brothers or whoever was at the game with me. I don't remember what we talked about, but I remember the feeling of peace there were pauses in the conversation, but these were never awkward. There was no trying to figure out what my friend was thinking, and I wasn't trying to change the way I was so that my friend would think I was cool. I remember the jacket I was wearing. It was second hand. My friend’s mom gave it to my mom for me when he outgrew it. But I don’t remember ever wishing I had a cooler jacket so I could be like my friends. There wasn't a fear that if I didn't make our time together enjoyable, that my friend wouldn't want to hang out with me. There wasn't a feeling that I should open up to my friend and share my emotions or share "what I have been struggling with" There was just a childlike sense of fun and adventure that drove us to climb on the school's roof and throw pebbles at the people who were passing by. Our only fear was that somebody would come by who didn't think it was so funny, and tell our principle or something. But this was a ball game, not school, so nobody would do a thing like that.
I don't remember if there were any girls my age at those ball games. I don't remember looking around to see if there were any girls I could talk to. I remember hanging out with my sister and her friends once in while, but then running off with my friends to go try to climb the pole that held up the tire swing. I was one of the last kids in my class to be able to climb that pole, but when I climbed it, I felt a great sense of accomplishment.
Speaking of accomplishments, at the end of the baseball season, my dads team would always have a get together where them and their families would get together and eat banana splits. There would always be unlimited ice cream and toppings.for those nights, life was good. It didnt matter what I got on the math quiz that day. It didnt matter if I got sent to the principles office that day. As long as it wants something bad enough to get grounded. But I usually got away with a dentention and maybe a talking to from my dad at the most. I wasn't a bad kid. For a few years, I hung out with a couple of guys who got into trouble a bit more than anyone else, but I wouldnt call them 'bad kids' either. We got in trouble for stuff like letting air out of other kids bike tires and running around in the snow barefoot. The former seems kinda mean, but we didnt actually want to incovienience anyone, we were just having fun. I also remember in grade 1 putting a sticker on the inside of one of the tires of the tire tower. I remember checking back in grade 3 and being really happy that it was still there. Something I had done had stood the test of time.