Page 29 of Pitching for Keeps
"If we have a daughter, you want her to do ballet so she'll have better balance for sports?"
"I want our daughter or son to do whatever makes her or him happy," he says. “But I really do hope we get to be sports parents. I’m not gonna lie.”
“I know. We really don’t need to worry about that right now. That will sort itself out at the right time,” I say. Secretly, I hope we’re sports parents, too, but I’ll keep that secret until it can do some good.
"Or maybe we don’t do sports." He pulls back to look at me. "I don't care what our kid likes as long as he or she’s happy. And healthy. And maybe has your smile."
"And your eyes."
"And definitely your brains. Can you imagine if she got my study habits?"
"Hey, you graduated."
"Because you made me flashcards for every test!"
"They were color-coded. Very effective."
He laughs, then gets that dangerous thinking look again. "You know, gymnastics is supposed to be great for young kids. Builds coordination and strength..."
"Jay."
"Yeah?"
"Our baby is the size of a raspberry."
"Right." He's quiet for exactly four seconds. "What about music? Piano players have great finger dexterity, which would help with pitching grips?—"
I kiss him to shut him up, which works like a charm.
"I love you," I say when we break apart. "And I love that you're already planning our child's entire life. But maybe we could start with, like, picking a name?"
"Nolan."
"What if it’s a girl?"
"Nolan Ryan is a legend. She'd be proud to carry that name."
"We're not naming our daughter after a pitcher."
"Jackie? After Jackie Robinson?"
"Jay..."
"Babe? After Babe Ruth?"
"Absolutely not. Are all your suggestions going to be baseball players?"
He thinks for a moment. "Mia. After Mia Hamm."
"That's soccer!"
"I'm branching out from baseball!" He grins.
I slowly shake my head in disapproval.
"How about Tracy?"
I melt a little. "You want to name our baby after me?"
