“Streee-ike Three… the Batters out!”

I am the Grandpa to two Teenagers now. Wow!

Yesterday my second Grandson, Jonathan Rourke, had his 13th Birthday. Two months ago my first Grandson Clifford Lindsay had his 14th Birthday.

Where did the time go? They are both as big as me now and growing very quickly to become much, much taller. I know that I would not try to wrestle them now as some part of me would hurt for days after… with each of them only getting slightly red in the face.

Did I mention that both are handsome young men now?

I remember the day that they arrived. My heart beat faster as the final announcement came about each birth. What a happy day each was.

We had been the proud parents of two daughters… no sons. I had no idea what to do with boys. And everyday since these guys have been teaching me what should have been done… should be done… or might happen soon.

Today Clifford is in Quebec City. Jonathan is off to the last few days of school for this week. They are both soon to be men. One will enter Grade Nine and the other will enter Grade Eight.

Both of these years of school I remember vividly in my own life. There were hundreds of awakenings for me in these two years they are facing. Some I did well in and others were not so good.

I imagine that will happen for these guys too.

Grad is coming for Clifford next week. It has been rumoured that he has made a Dean’s List. I knew he was bright – but that is way past bright, it is brilliant – if it happens.

I am using Clifford more in this story today in that I have a recent photo of his latest achievement of Umpiring Baseball games.

A few years ago we watched a little squirt walk out to a home plate and shoulder a bat for the first time – swinging and sometimes hitting. Then I witnessed a young boy grow with his speed and ability and become a cool baseball player that can really hit, can pitch well, is an outstanding out fielder and all round great kid.

Two days ago I saw that same little tyke, small boy, growing baseball player, sharp and alert teen ball player – take a new step. He is now a paid Umpire with a much deeper voice.

The ball swished by the batter and I heard, “Stree-ike”, loud and clear from a husky voice that is changing quickly. I looked at Alida and shook my head saying, “That is our Clifford! Can you believe it?”

Some one walked by Grandpa and Grandma Lincoln and asked us if our grandson was on one of the teams. “No, we are here for the Umpire” was my reply – which brought an odd response. Not every Ump has his grandparents sitting there for him.

I have found that you can’t really help the Ump by cheering him on.

I had told Clifford that I would yell out, “Kill the Umpire!” He grinned and told me kindly that he could throw me out of the game now. And he meant what he said. He has the power with this new job!!!

Just as the game was about to start I did walk up behind the chain link fence and yell it out for him to get the idea that I was there. Too funny. People did look at me strangely in that there had been now Umpire Calls yet.

As I reflect on what is happening with my Grandkids – all six of them – there is a Bound that has taken place that is amazing.

Emma, Jonathan, Thomas, Michael and Christopher all come to give both Grandpa and Grandma a hug. They are still young – so it is not un-cool to do so. But a time will come when we stop hugging. Clifford is there now.

I mean – how un-cool would it be for a hulk of an Umpire to stop the game and come over to hug an old geezer that just yelled out “Kill the Umpire!”

I was in Youth Court not long ago. One young and dishevelled youngster was standing before the Judge. His head was hung down as the things were said about him and to him. Beside him was a young man that was identified as his “youth worker”. There was no mom or dad, no grandpa or grandma, simply no one. He was 13 years old. And I nearly cried out loud in court for the young boy with no one to give a ding dong to even show up for him.

“Streee-ike Three… the Batters out!” the husky voice called out.

And I wanted to stand up and yell at the top of my lungs… “THAT IS MY GRANDSON!” – but I couldn’t get out of the lawn chair without some effort and then again I had tears in my eyes… so I muttered with a grin on my face… “That is MY grandson and I am so proud of him!”

When I called Jonathan yesterday to wish him Happy Birthday… I could hear him grin on the phone. Too cool… way too cool… for old guys like me.

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/

Clifford Ross Lindsay

Jonathan William Rourke