The Road Not Taken

 Yesterday was textbook softball weather—sunglasses and wool blanket.  You sit, you freeze.  Michele and I sat, we froze, all to watch other people’s kids play.

That’s because Valpo was in town to play UIC.  This afforded us a few glimpses of Clare in the dugout or venturing a few steps out; our daughter is very conscientious about shaking hands with players walking her way.  Did I mention the cold?

I earned two degrees at UIC, the second of which allows me to profess professionally on at least one subject and try my luck with as many as I think I can get away with.  A phone call here, a different recruiting need there, and this is where Clare could have ended up.  But the Division III she took part in for four years could’ve given those two Division I teams a real run for their money; the chip on the shoulder never goes away, I guess.  If nothing else, the field is nice (though not nearly as nice as the neighboring baseball field underwritten by UIC alum Curtis Granderson).  But all NCAA softball music remains the same—bad, loud, borderline vulgar— whatever the division.  Just once, I’d like to hear a little Allman Brothers while pitchers warm up.  Oh, Sweet Melissa.

Anyway, the way that east wind blew off the lake, I’m thankful Clare found a home at Elmhurst.  Did I mention Valpo will be back at UIC this afternoon, and us, too?  Just for a glimpse or two.