Proud Uncle Alert, Part 2
As I said in a previous entry, sometimes my older niece & nephew aren’t mentioned as frequently here in The Diner as the stunning Margaux. They all deserve the shout-outs, but the older ones were newborns before I started blogging…so my “first visits” and such were already in the past before many of you got to meet them.
But Peyton was first. In fact, the day he was born, my sister-in-law had gone into labor while I was on the golf course. I went to the clubhouse to check how far along she was after the front nine…and I was told to get to the hospital ASAP. I did, and I got there very soon after he was born. Just a few minutes. I always liked his name, too, because it sounds like something that would sound so cool over the loudspeaker at any sporting event. You know, “Starting at wide receiver, number 81, Pey-ton….Walsh.” Cool.
I’ve thrown him in swimming pools. I’ve watched movies with him. We’ve talked sports…all of ’em. I give him a hard time about being a bandwagon Red Sox fan and I’ve forgiven him for somehow giving his college football allegiances to the Evil Empire Crimson Tide. I got to talk to him on the phone the day after he hit his first home-run (something I never did in 15 years of playing baseball). I’ve challenged him in ping-pong. Ridden his skateboard. Loaded up his iPod with him. Chased sand crabs on the beach with flashlights & nets & buckets with him. The whole bit. It’s pretty cool having a nephew you can “borrow” as needed.
Anyway, baseball season is upon us, and Aunt Jodie sent me photos. It could’ve been football. Or wrestling, too. But Aunt Jodie knows I’m a bit more into baseball…
Here he is at the plate. I have no idea why his dad didn’t turn him around when he was little to bat lefty so he could have the extra step to first base…but notice the hands, weight balance & elbows. His dad must’ve taught him a thing or two because that’s really good form.
Here he is on the mound. He’s ALWAYS had a strong arm, man. Even when he was a little kid he was wingin’ whatever he had in his hands at lightning speed…including the nerf balls we were throwing at each other that fell 9 floors off a hotel balcony that we made a deal not to tell his mom about until the statute of limitations ran out…
I hope you’ll forgive another pulling out of the digital wallet as you get your cup of joe this morning at The Diner. But, hey. I warned you at the beginning, folks. That’s what a “proud uncle alert” is.