Something to talk about in therapy when she is older
The best part is how long it takes for the mom to cool down. I’m sure he was just trying to get a cool souvenier for his daughter that she would always treasure once her cracked ribs heal.
For the record, my daughter would never have to worry about me dropping her for a foul ball. As friends who have been with me at Brewers games will tell you, I won’t even drop my bratwurst or my beer to get a foul ball. I was actually booed once. Cost of stadium food vs. cost of baseball. Hmmmm.
I’ve had two foul balls land next to me that I wouldn’t bother to reach for. A friend who had season tickets with me caught a ball and gave it to the nearest little kid just so he could keep both hands free for his beers.
Who needs a foul ball anyway? I can get a dozen “official” baseballs at Wal-Mart for $44.50 and I don’t have to remember the name of the future AAA returnee who popped it up once too often before catching the next bus to Des Plaines.
My favorite idiots at baseball games are those that reach up with their bare hands to catch a foul ball sent like a rocket into seats along the first and third base lines. I don’t know if these morons have noticed but the guy getting paid $8 million per year to hit .237 uses something called a glove. You’re calling him an idiot? He’s rich and his hand wasn’t broken in three places. Imagine what he thinks of you.
Fortunately for the daughter in the video her dad couldn’t afford better seats. If a line drive foul ball came towards the dad he would probably use one of his girls as a human shield. Given his hand-eye coordination, it would probably work as well as it did for Osama Bin Laden.
My second favorite idiots are the guys who propose to their girlfriends on the scoreboard. I never understand why the girls say, “yes.” Ladies, look at the seats he bought for the game and show some self-respect. True love can do better than bleacher seats. Don’t tell me he spent all the money on the ring. I saw it, and I think Bernie Brewer fashioned it up in the chalet between innings. I hope you enjoy the sausage race because this is date night from now on.
People are laughing at the guy for not catching the ball. I call it justice. If you can’t hang onto your daughter, why should you get a baseball?
I would accuse him of catching like a girl except I bet his daughter was really mad at him because she could have caught it. Instead, she has to live with the permanent scar of an immasculated image of her father, one that conveniently matches the scar from where she hit the chair.
Just don’t ask me if I would drop my daughter for a bratwurst and a beer.