Page 16 of The Problem with Sports
She let out a tired sigh, and her hands started tearing at the label on her water. “Grant will never be a professional baseball star, Nathan,” she said. “He’ll never play soccer, or football, or hockey, or anything. It…it seems cruel to take him around something he loves so much, knowing he’ll never get to experience any of it.”
I thought about that.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, I asked, “What do you think is worse, taking a boy to a ballgame, even though he knows he can’t play, or putting a kid into sports all his life, even knowing that he’ll probably never play professionally?”
“What?”
I wasn’t taking her concerns lightly. Even with all the new gender-neutral expectations these days, there were still a lot of people who expected girls to play with dolls and boys to play sports. But no matter your views, a child not being able to play sports, or games, or even just exercise for health reasons was sad. So, I understood not wanting to put alcohol in front of a recovering alcoholic, but then why let him watch sports? Why let him become obsessed them at all? Or, maybe, that was their way of giving him a safe taste of sports. I wasn’t sure, but in my opinion, letting a kid go to a game, even though he’ll never play it, was less cruel than making a kid play sports, and trying to force the talent, only to come up empty in the end. It took more than talent to hit the pros.
“Grant already knows he can’t play sports, so he’s untainted by the lights and glamour. He enjoys sports for what they are, not for the celebrity they’ve become. He’s a true sports fan, unlike a lot of kids who are forced into sports by their parents, fame and money being the motivator. And most of them never succeed, so talk about crushing a dream,” I explained. “I think you’re doing a disservice by not taking Grant to any games.”
She stared at me a bit before saying, “Huh.” Andie started chewing on her lower lip. “I…I never thought of it that way,” she admitted.
“Look, I’m not trying to…downplay your concerns,” I told her. “I have no experience with chILD, outside of what you just told me. But…there are thousand kids in those stands, who can’t play sports, but still love to go to the games, and they have a great time.” Then a thought occurred to me. “Have you guys even asked Grant how he feels about going to a live game?”
Her cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. Andie shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “It was a decision Steven and I agreed upon when he’d been diagnosed, and we sort of just left it at that.”
I nodded my head and thought about everything we’d just discussed. After a few seconds I said, “Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here, but we’re going to start with our relationship, bec-”
“Our relationship?” Her voice sounded wary again.
“Yes, our relationship,” I repeated. “We have to become friends or none of this will work.”
She inclined her head a bit. “None of what will work?”
“Jesus, woman,” I breathed out. “Pay attention, will you?”
Her brows shot up. “Oh, trust me, I’m trying. However, you’re making no sense.”
I narrowed my eyes at her lie. “If we don’t become friends, then how else am I supposed to steer Grant back on the right path?”
She narrowed her brown eyes right back. “He’s not on the wrong path,” she argued.
I cocked my head. “His favorite sport is football,” I began, ticking off Grant’s list of offenses with my fingers. “He can’t decide if hockey or baseball is his second. And when it comes to baseball, his favorite team is the Angels. And he thinks Hillman is the best Condors player. Not to mention, he called megood, even though I’m slated for the Hall of Fame.” I put my hand back down, my ticks finished. “There’sa lotwrong with all of that.”
“You do know this is America, right?” she remarked like a smartass. “In this country, people are entitled to their own opinions.”
“People have the right to their own opinions all over the world,” I corrected her.
“Yeah, but in America, you don’t get stoned for them,” she countered.
“That’s debatable,” I replied. I was raised by a meddling mother. If Sayer, Gideon, or I ever dared to tell Mom our opinions on her meddling ways, we’d be worse than stoned. There was a good chance no one would ever see any of us alive ever again.
“Look, your mental illness aside, you made a valid point about the live games,” she said. “I’ll talk to Steven about it and see what he says.”
“And if he says no?” Admittedly, I knew nothing about the guy, but he sounded like a dick so far. I also didn’t like how cozy she seemed with him. Sure, it was absolutely none of my business, but a few of my body parts were eager to become friends with this woman, and so, I needed to know what I was dealing with here.
Andie shook her head. “Then we’ll talk about it some more,” she replied. “Believe it or not, Grant really is our number one priority.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe it?”
She shrugged. “Lots of divorced couples never make it past the hurts and/or betrayals to do what’s best for the children. That’s not me and Steven.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t want to sound like a dick, but it seemed that if Grant was their number one priority, they’d never gotten divorced. Of course, I didn’t know the details, so what did I know? I just knew I didn’t like hearing her speak like they were a team.
Fuck, I needed to get a grip.
I stood up, ready to leave. “Okay, so talk to Steven, and then we can get to work on helping Grant see the light.”
