Reflections on Baseball During Pride Month

(From Rev. Jeanne’s Personal Page)

  I struggle at times with my son's passion for baseball. I have posted about the behavior of some of the folkx in Future Stars and Little League- the way they bully and yell at the each other, take it all so seriously, and have taught my son new turns of phrase like "that sucks" or "we're screwed," or have told him to "walk it off" or "don't rub it" when he is really hurting to the point of tears (I have stepped in and will continue to do so).

He now wants to chomp gum that imitates the tobacco he sees the Major League players chewing, and he rearranges his cup, and hitches up his pants in a certain way in public, and spits randomly (and loses minutes of screen time and has other consequences). I intend to do everything in my maternal power to continue to interfere in that dysfunctional male template transmission- including surrounding him with sane wonderful strong gentle male role models (like many of you ‘all). And I trust my son and the conversations between us are rich and ongoing. He is taking one of his first runs at discernment at age 10.5. And he also smiles a lot when he is playing, has made a bunch of new friends, and is a really, really, good baseball player.

I do want to give the Giants and Dodgers a shoutout for wearing rainbow logos on their uniforms and giving out Pride swag during Pride month. Every single umpire, coach, staff member, and player wore the logos. No pushback. No blaming Jesus. Just wearing the logo in support and allyship. I cringe that we have become a marketing demographic, and it seems like a small, performative, virtue signaling thing. And yet there is good in it. Like when my son brought me home a hat from the game that I'll wear as I walk with Pride like I have learned to over the years-whether I was wiping away the spit in those first Pride celebrations, getting stitched up after being hit in the head with a sign that I expressed my displeasure with, taking care of friends dying of AIDS in the 80's, watching people I loved and respected as a kid get up and leave the sanctuary because they didn't want to receive communion from me, or having that rainbow stole draped over my shoulders in ordained ministry, and feeling that incredible joy 20 years ago this month (That still seems to be growing...)
Well played Giants and Dodgers. But now let’s keep moving.  There is much, much, more work to do.  And then let’s talk about the spitting. Let's work on that too.