Playing Catch

By: Danny Thomas

A lot of my blogs start
with a train of thought
during a ride in the car
by myself,
often, early in the morning
which rarely happens these days.

I remember something
that I thought of earlier
in the week.
Or recall that Jen said, “you should blog about that…”
Usually I don’t remember anything, and my brain
finds its own path.

This week
I had a moment
that was all three.
I remembered an inspiring moment
that also happened to be something
Jennifer commented on…
and my mind took a little journey
along that way.
That is the best.

I was thinking about playing catch…

Earlier in the week,
I played catch with Lil’ Chaos.
We kicked a ball too.

I was also thinking about playing catch with my dad.
And my mom.
We played catch a lot,
It was the best.
Baseball, Football, Frisbee, Soccer…

And I was thinking about the ways in which playing catch are transcendent, rapturous, innumerable, and ineffable.

It is healthy; beneficial to the mind, body and spirit.

I was never much for Little League
I don’t think I had the attention span
for organized baseball…
I was one of those distracted by dandelions in left field..
An airplane over third base
could steal my attention from
whatever was going on in the game…

But I love to play catch…

The fact that Lil’ Chaos and I have
reached a point on our journey together
that playing catch
with a ball,
kicked or tossed,
is enjoyable
and gripping
for both of us
at least, for a period of time
is, for me, profound.

we played ball
in the backyard for
nearly an hour
worked on hitting for a while
and tossed the ball
and kicked one for a while too.

The peals of laughter,
pure joy
as she caught ball after ball…
and as she figured out how to get a ball to me
how to “hit me in the numbers”

Also, I was thinking about baseball mitts…

The baseball mitt
is a singular experience,
a unique sensuality.

We had a few around the house.
They didn’t come from anywhere,
they were just there.
There was a catcher’s mitt I liked best.
and it was the one right handed mitt around that fit me,
so that was lucky.

Maya is a lefty.
She needs a new mitt
the one she has is too small.
It’s also pink
and purple
and has Dora on it.
We are beyond that now…


  1. says

    Oh the glory of mitts. My grown sons are athletes, their sons as well and there was nothing better than a new mitt under the mattress tied with string and a ball in the middle and gloveolium to soften it (I guess now they are made softer). It was a ritual that is still carried on today with their sons. I loved the smell of the mitt and the leather. I loved going to the games and now love to watch my grandsons play. Danny, you just took me down memory lane. Thanks.

  2. Graham says


    That was beautiful. The idea of playing catch with my father is something that I never got the chance to do. It’s the ONLY thing that I really wish I could have done in my childhood. I think there is great worth in playing catch with a mom (which I did) but there is something unique and perfect about playing catch with a father. I wish I could better articulate my thoughts and feelings about this topic in particular, but I will say that I am filled with joy just reading this post. This is cliche, but the memory your daughters will have is priceless.

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