Life | Self | Humor

I Found My Old Baseball Glove. It Was Filled With Orange Dirt… and Memories.

This sounds boring but I promise it isn’t (at least to me)

don’t ask how long it took me to capture this stylized photo (by author)

I found my old baseball glove in the attic a few days ago. It was tucked away in a blue plastic bin with some sort of silver car part that I only vaguely remember seeing before.

The little boy down the street came over to our house after school as he typically does and I urged all the kids to head outside and find something active to do like throwing the ball around. Lacking imagination, they took that suggestion literally and the friend trotted to his house and returned a minute or two later with his shiny new baseball glove and two balls. He recently joined a baseball team for the first time so he’s a bit of an expert on throwing and catching.

My 10-year-old has never really played baseball but he asked me if we still had a glove he could use. I told him no, probably not, and he went back outside to play. Then I thought about it for a minute and jogged upstairs to have a quick look in the attic.

I found the glove in literally the first box I opened which is about as miraculous as the decrepit Sid Bream legging it out from second base to win game seven of the NLCS for the Atlanta…