Showing posts with label cap. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cap. Show all posts

Friday, July 11, 2014

The Power Of The Rally Cap


"Indians erupt late to cruise past Yankees in finale."


Self portrait 7-11-14


All I'm saying is, before I put my rally cap on last night, the Indians were down 3-0 to the Yankees and the game was flat-lining after six scoreless Tribe innings.

Immediately after I put my rally cap on, Cleveland scored 9 runs in the 7th and 8th innings and the Yankees didn't score any more all night.

After rookie catcher Roberto Perez slammed his first big league homer in his first big league appearance, the guys in the row behind me said I should wear my rally cap to every game.

No shit.

In a post game interview, Indians DH Nick Swisher said "Regardless of what's happening early in the game, it kind of seems like we always find a way to fight ourselves back into a game."

That's right, Swish. You found a way alright.

I proudly take full credit for the win. It was me. All me.

Never, ever underestimate the power of a good rally cap.

That's all I'm saying.

Friday, June 6, 2014

My Baseball Cap


"I have sometimes worn a baseball cap, a beard,
spectacles and a wig not to be noticed."

-- Sachin Tendulkar


Self portrait 5-6-14

When I was six or seven, I wanted a baseball cap.

Real bad.

But I was afraid to ask for one. I was afraid my family would tease me for being like a boy.

I wanted a baseball cap so badly that I stole a faded canvas fishing hat of my dad's from the garage. I folded one half of its floppy brim up inside the hat, then wrapped the other half in a whole roll of black electrical tape to fashion it into a sort-of bill.

I kept my homemade ball cap hidden. I only wore it once that I can clearly remember, riding on the "whirly-bird" with my friend Susie. I quit wearing it after that and hid it in the garage so I could look at it sometimes -- press it down onto my head when no one else could see me.

Pathetic, I know. But it was the best I could do.

Why was my child self so fucking afraid to ask for this small and simple thing?

As one of four sisters living in a houseful of girls, I had already become deeply frightened of judgment and criticism. I was particularly wary of my dad's. And it was hard to escape my appearances-focused grandma's recurring refrain of "Do The Other Girls Wear (insert clothing item here)?"

There you go, psychologists. Have a field day.

I have my very own baseball cap now. A real one. Blue. Fitted. With my favorite team's logo on the front.

I don't wear it to look cutesy, or slutty, or to hold back a pony tail, or because I'm playing actual baseball or softball, or for whatever reasons other girls wear ball caps.

I wear it because my snug little ball cap feels protective and comforting on my head. It makes me feel not afraid. It makes me think of frightened little me whenever I put it on.

I wore it yesterday to work in my garden. It kept the sun out of my eyes.

Sometimes I wear it indoors, where there isn't any sun.

I put it on during Indians games -- at the stadium and in front of my TV. I turn it inside out and make a rally cap when game situations call for it.

I wear it when I want, where I want.

Guess what?

No one notices.