Clemency on rainy days: we only needed sunflower seeds.
Ancient cultures regarded rain as a blessing. There were exceptions; Noah comes to mind. But when a wise rabbi noted that the rain falls on the just and unjust alike (Matt. 5:45), he suggested that perspective matters.
My perspective is that baseball is a religion. The viewpoint of a baseball player is to look at rain and shrug, “You win. I’ll be waiting in the dry dugout. Oh, you think we’re playing in the snow?! Ha!” Hence, all we need is sunflower seeds and a dry spot on the bench. There are worse ways to while the hours, and inclement weather is as good an excuse as any for a little downtime.
On that topic, inclement, as in the weather, means “not kind” or “without mercy.” In high school, while the athletes of more brutish sports mucked out their pigpens, we retreated to the weight room — a place of lighthearted effort where the occasional grunt from hefting a dumbbell was merely an em-dash between our cheerful banter.
So, it was the baseball player in me who agreed to let my children stay home the other afternoon, even though their sport (tae kwon do) is practiced indoors.
We played cards instead, while the dog — who needs no excuse — curled up for a holy nap.
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of “Little Big Moments,” a collection of mini-essays about parenting, and “Tigers, Mice & Strawberries: Poems.” Both titles are available most anywhere books are sold online. Taylor-Troutman lives in Chapel Hill where he serves as pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church and occasionally stumbles upon the wondrous while in search of his next cup of coffee.
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