I know a thing or two about being a Golf Widow. My mom, for example, is a seasoned pro, for many years, giving up countless weekends to the cause. With a house upstate that her husband frequents, she is regularly left to her own devices from Thursday thru Monday, April thru November. Yeah, it’s like that.
Of course, it has its advantages. My mom is an independent creature who loves her routine. She’s perfectly content with her alone time, but there are some weekends where I know she would enjoy a Saturday night date, or having a partner to grandparent with, or simply appreciate being placed above a small ball and a little hole.
Many years back, my husband was almost lured into the golfing cult by a persuasive friend named Big Big. My husband, not as big as Big Big, was simply referred to as Big. Weren’t they cute? So Big and Big Big would sneak off in the wee morning hours, sometimes driving well over an hour to get in a round.
As it turned out, they never truly got beyond the golf honeymoon stage. Children entered the picture and then Big Big and his little wife moved to wealthy suburbia where he commuted from NY to Toronto for his big job.
But I do understand Golf widowhood and at the time felt lucky to have avoided it, until I realized what was in store for me would be much more life altering and all-encompassing .
I am a Little League Baseball Widow.
I should have seen it coming. My husband was captain of his college baseball team, a lifelong baseball fan and now is the father of three littler leaguers, I mean, boys. All that pent up baseball energy, harnessed for all those years working in the real world, has finally been released in the form of a highly regarded, extremely vested, little league coach.
You don’t hear about LLBW’s often, maybe because technically we’re not always left alone. A LLBW is, by the circumstance of being Mom, drawn in to support and help. She’s in it, whether she wants to or not.
So I guess it’s more like being a Little League Baseball Sacrifice. Yeah, that’s exactly it.
Not sure you’re a Baseball Sacrifice? Let’s find out.
1. When your husband asks you for a cup, do immediately head to the underwear drawer?
2. Is your floor littered with all sorts of baseball paraphernalia – gloves, bats, balls, bags, cleats, etc? Kind of like this…?
3. Does a night out with your husband somehow wind up near stores like “Dicks” or “Sports Authority”?
4. Does your husband’s nightly routine include watching baseball, while talking baseball, while checking stats/writing emails about baseball?
5. Do you spend more than 3 days a week driving to games or practices?
6. Is your house referred to as the one where the dad is always on the lawn throwing balls to his kids? Even at night. In winter. Or rain?
7. Do you have five or more of these items on your lawn – pitchbacks, hitting tees, bases, bucket of balls, swing corrector, bats, helmets?
8. Do you spend endless time sifting through laundry for the UnderArmor and uniforms that need to be hung dry?
9. Do you respond to every attempt for plans with, “I’ll have to check the baseball schedule.”
10. Can you get out of your house in under 10, with a cooler, distractions for your other kids, lawn chair and a fully uniformed player equipped with baseball bag, the right cleats and water bottle?
If you’ve answered yes to 3 or more, you may be a Baseball Sacrifice. If you answered yes to 5 or more, you probably are, and if you’re like me and answer yes to all of them, well, I wish I could tell you greener grass was ahead.
But it’s only AstroTurf .