There are certain areas of life where beliefs must be arrived upon using one’s own freewill. Padres baseball is not one of those areas.
During the middle of last week I was notified by my wife and daughters that we would be buying two fish this summer as pets. I smiled with faux enthusiasm. The last fish we brought into our home came from a creek in Poway. We thought it was a tadpole but it was just a very tiny fish. We named him Ted, placed him in a small fish bowl and managed to keep him alive for a substantial period of time. Nothing lasts forever though and now it’s time for new fish.
My wife, sensing a lack of enthusiasm, wisely sought buy-in. She said, “Guess what the girls are naming them?”
“I have no idea. What?”
She prompted the girls and in unison they answered, “Tony and Gwynn!”
I perked up a bit. “Really?”
I thought about this for a moment. All of these goofy things I do to gently push my daughters towards baseball are beginning to embed themselves into their fiber.