What a Load

My parents never let on that we pretty much lived paycheck to paycheck.  There was always food on the table, my two sisters and I were dressed decently, and nobody got cheated on their birthday or at Christmas.

Now, I realize there were certain “tells” otherwise—my father wasn’t so much moody as he was exhausted from sometimes working thirteen straight days; my mother literally counted pennies, so that when I bought Hostess Twinkies for myself (or lost the $10 she gave me to go to the store) it took a real bite out of the family budget.  But then God looked down on them and smiled.  My parents were relatively well-off by their old age and quite happy to shower their only grandchild with presents, to say nothing of affection.  That’s how it’s supposed to be, I think.

As parents, Michele and I never cried poor in the presence of our daughter; if Clare ever noticed money was tight, it’s because she figured out the “tells” at an earlier age than I did.  No, there was always food on the table; our child never lacked for clothes; and she never got cheated on her birthday or at Christmas.  And did I mention softball?

What did Heminway say in The Sun Also Rises when one character asks another how he went bankrupt?  Oh, right:  “Two ways.  Gradually and then suddenly.”  That, my friends, is youth sports in a nutshell—first, you get nickeled and dimed, then you get whacked over the head by this, that and the other.  Travel ball and hitting coaches don’t come cheap.  But you do it because your kid is really good, and the sport makes her really happy.

Only it shouldn’t cost so damn’ much all the damn’ time.  Batting gloves, sliding shorts, bats.  Oh, my God, bats.  When did they start going for $300?  At one point, we had five-figure, credit-card debt.  Softball alone didn’t put us there, but it sure helped.  In passing, my parents bequeathed their children a final gift, and we used mine to erase all debt.

Not that Dick’s Sporting Goods helped any.  No, that place was more interested in meeting quarterly profit projections, and if we couldn’t afford their stuff, well, too bad, try Play It Again Sports (and we did).  And now Dick’s has the nerve to take out a full-page ad in the paper to proclaim “United in Sport.” 

Wow, I never knew that, “When we are united, together, we are at our best.”  Thank you, oh “proud sponsor of Team USA,” for telling me that and how your company is “fortunate enough to see humanity at its very best every single day” on all the venues that sports can be played on (with Dick’s merchandise, of course).

But, guys, your stuff is damn’ expensive and made it hard for us to equip our daughter so she could achieve her best on one of those venues.  Why don’t you skip the ad and lower your prices?  No can do?  In that case, you can take your ad and….