No love for the glove

I got out my old baseball glove last week. All the nostalgia about the “smell of the old glove” is bunk. It smells musty, feels dry and has atrophied. It’s been tucked away for ten or so years. If you find a truly old glove, in the range of 50+ years, it would smell no better. Old gloves don’t smell like well oiled leather, don’t smell like fresh cut grass of a childhood ballfield, don’t smell like “baseball,” they smell like mold. The idea of the old glove might bring back memories of past baseball glory, but the glove itself brings to mind grandma’s basement. And that’s ok. Instead of smelling the glove, go to a game... get a new glove. Seeing baseball alive brings back the past better than dragging out an old glove and trying to force bloated fingers into rough, sweat hardened leather.

An old bat, mini or otherwise, has a more timeless role. Grabbing an old bat brings it back right away. Nothing like the feeling when you get ol’ hickory on the ol’ roundhouse. I had a dream a few nights ago that I had a batting cage in my yard that I had never used. I was upset at myself because batting cages are fun and you can use old bats in them. But that was just a dream. If I had a batting cage, I’d surely use it. Waking Doug is smarter than Sleeping Doug when it comes to batting cages and fun.

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Basketball update:

He shoots, he's sore!