We went to our last Sounds game of the season Saturday night.
Nashville beat Memphis 6-3. We stayed after the game for fireworks and so Things 1 and 2 could join 1,000 other kids in running the bases.
Before we left the house, I read online that one of our best hitters, a guy named Taylor Green, had been called up from the Triple-A Sounds to join the Milwaukee Brewers, and I remembered the time we went to a late-season game 5 summers ago, and Thing 1’s favorite player wasn’t there.
Thing 1 was only 6 years old, but she’d noticed that Corey Hart would usually get on base if not drive it out of the ballpark, and when he wasn’t there, she noticed.
When we got home, Thing 1 got ready for bed, and I went online to find out what had happened to Corey Hart.
“He’s been called up,” I told her. “He’s gone to play for Milwaukee.”
It was late, Thing 1 was tired, and she started sobbing.
“I miss him!” she said.
“It’s OK. This is a good thing. The guys who play for Nashville want to play for Milwaukee.”
“When’s he coming back?” she asked.
“Well, unless he gets hurt or something, he probably won’t be back. He’s playing for Milwaukee now.”
Thing 1 began crying harder and said, “I want to send him a letter.”
I thought that was very sweet. “What do you want to say?” I asked.
“OK,” I said. “We can write him a letter in the morning. Time for bed.”
She was still crying a little when I tucked her in. “It’s OK,” I told her. “He’s happy. This is what he wanted.”
She said, “I miss him. He’s the best baseball player I ever saw.”
She was asleep before I could turn out the light.