Karlsie's Rules
By Karlsie
This year I witnessed something at Fenway that is truly disturbing me. Young adults who don't get that, when it comes to autographs, photos and such, the little kids win.
Last April, I noticed it when Jason Varitek, my son's hero, went to soft toss him a ball during batting practice. It was clear that Tek was throwing it to him and yet the adult on the other side of me snagged it as a trophy. When Tek yelled, "Hey, it's for the kid," the guy handed it to a different kid. I had given up my spot at the wall for the kid who received the ball and when he turned around and looked at the adult he was with saying, "Wow! Now I have two balls," the adult with him suggested he sell one on Ebay as they walked off.
So here are Karlsie's rules one and two: if you're an adult, you don't come first, the kids do. Rule number two: if you're an adult and your kid already has, you teach them to share with others.
At that game against the Blue Jays, we stayed along the wall to watch the Jays take practice. Not far from us were Vernon Wells and two other team mates who would shag the balls coming their way. The players would then hold up the ball while kids were yelling, "Throw it here," and other things hoping for a trophy. They would turn towards the fans and then throw it back to their guy on the field dropping shagged balls into the bucket. In fact, the only ball tossed to anyone from Toronto was when a couple of the coaches on the field would soft toss them to fans asking.
This leads to Karlsie's rule number three: If you're a player, remember that you make millions because those kids yelling, "Toss it here," buy tickets, your card, your shirt and other products that you endorse. If you're not going to throw them the ball, then ignore them, don't taunt them. It isn't funny, it was cruel and speaks volumes about your character.
The other night before the game, Gabe Kapler stopped along the wall to sign autographs. In one corner near the alley the grounds crew uses to get to the field, a group of 20-somethings pushed their way through, squealing like stuck pigs, trying to get photos and signatures. Lost in the shuffle was a kid who, if he was 5 he was old, got pushed to the back who just wanted to see "a real baseball player."
I yelled, "Hey, let the kid through," from my corner across the alley. They ignored me and the kid looked like he was about to burst into tears. He was so close but so far away. So I yelled it again only to have one of the "adults" make a gesture and face at me. The third time I yelled it loud enough for Kapler to hear. As soon as he heard, he said, "Let the kid through," and the adults then parted to let the kid through. He turned around with a smile that could light the night after Kapler signed for him.
Kapler signed my son's hat (much to his delight) and I snapped a photo of them together (much to my delight) before he declared he would sign for "Five more kids," and then counted which five.
Karlsie's rule four: I love the players as much as anyone, but you have to let the little kids go first. I don't care how big your young chest may be, asking a player to sign your shirt is not going you his phone number and he probably isn't going to take yours... especially when you push a 5 year old away.
(As a side note here, if you ever see me at the wall without kids trying to get an autograph, you can be damn sure it's for one of my boys.)
Of course, now that I'm thinking about it, I remember seeing this once last year at a game. As Nixon was running off the field at the change of the inning, he went to toss a ball to a kid in the box seats and an adult leaped across to catch it - much to the crowd's dismay, who then booed the guy until he finally was shamed into giving it to the kid. So let's add:
Karlsie's rule number five: Adults respond to pressure. If you seen an adult behaving badly at a game like that - stand up to them and try shaming them into doing the right thing.
I guess the point I'm really trying to make here folks is that players often reach out to kids first. I know most of you in the trendiest of shirts and caps at the field's edge are new fans who have not withstood the test of time the way people like me have. That's OK, there's always room for new fans (although I could have done without the two rows of work mates in front of me the other night on their cell phones and making beer runs). I'd love to share the game with you, but if you don't let the kids in first, you don't deserve to have your tickets. That's how it's been since long before I was a kid and I hope it remains that way long after I'm gone.
My boys know that once they hit high school, I expect them to give up their spot to the little kids. My son appreciated that I did the right thing in giving up my spot to the kid that eventually took his ball and wanted to sell it on Ebay. One thing he learned was that "some adults suck," because he knows I would have made him hand the ball to another kid if he had another one.
In fact, this is the summer job he'd like to have. He'd like to be on the field observing which kids got aced out by star struck adults and then take a ball, call the kid over and give it to them. "It would only be fair mom, little kids shouldn't be sad like that at the ball game," he said.
In those moments, I know I did something right in raising him - I can only hope that some of the other folks around me at games learn that as well
The Evil Empire
By Karlsie
For people who don't understand how deep the Boston/NY rivalry goes or how far it extends, they should have been sitting in the pouring rain the other night at Nickerson field for the Boston Cannons home opener.
I know what you're thinking: "Um Karlsie, this is about the Red Sox, not lacrosse. Why are you talking about the Cannons?"
Simple, they played their home opener against the Long Island Lizards who were then greeted with boos; cat calls such as "Yankees go home" and the Evil Empire theme music playing over the PA system as they introduced the team.
Think about that for a minute - this rivalry is now so firmly entrenched that even lacrosse is part of the Boston/NY thing.
I admit that I have been to three professional lacrosse games in my life - all three at Nickerson and all three were the Cannons vs. the Lizards. All three times I have witnessed the rivalry. But for some reason, it truly struck me as I sat there in the pouring rain at how deep and how intense this truly is.
Tonight the kids know: it's Boston and NY - if it doesn't involve a fire, flood or blood, don't bother mom when the games on. I got my preview Saturday when the Cannons beat the Lizards 15-13 in the rain. I'm seeing that as an ... well, would omen be the right word to use this week?
Go Sox!
The Evil Empire
By Karlsie
For people who don't understand how deep the Boston/NY rivalry goes or how far it extends, they should have been sitting in the pouring rain the other night at Nickerson field for the Boston Cannons home opener.
I know what you're thinking: "Um Karlsie, this is about the Red Sox, not lacrosse. Why are you talking about the Cannons?"
Simple, they played their home opener against the Long Island Lizards who were then greeted with boos; cat calls such as "Yankees go home" and the Evil Empire theme music playing over the PA system as they introduced the team.
Think about that for a minute - this rivalry is now so firmly entrenched that even lacrosse is part of the Boston/NY thing.
I admit that I have been to three professional lacrosse games in my life - all three at Nickerson and all three were the Cannons vs. the Lizards. All three times I have witnessed the rivalry. But for some reason, it truly struck me as I sat there in the pouring rain at how deep and how intense this truly is.
Tonight the kids know: it's Boston and NY - if it doesn't involve a fire, flood or blood, don't bother mom when the games on. I got my preview Saturday when the Cannons beat the Lizards 15-13 in the rain. I'm seeing that as an ... well, would omen be the right word to use this week?
Go Sox!
