Elysha and I were in New York City on Saturday, sitting the mezzanine at the Palace Theater on Broadway, preparing to watch Keiran Culkin, Bob Odenkrikl, Bill Burr, Michael McKean, and others in “Glengarry Glen Ross”
About 100 miles to the northeast, Charlie was playing in a baseball game. As we waited for the show to start, I watched as Charlie walked, stole second, reached third on an error, and was stranded before scoring.
It’s the beauty of technology—an app called Game Changer turned my son’s baseball game into a play-by-play video game that I could watch from anywhere in the world. I couldn’t see him on video, though if the field had video cameras or a parent at the game chose to live stream, I could’ve been watching that, too. But I saw a digital representation of the field, with Charlie’s name beside a dot as he stood at the plate, taking balls and strikes before making his way to first base.
Kind of amazing.
Constant connection isn’t good for anyone. The ability to ignore, unplug, turn off, and focus on the moment is critical, but there are also moments when you want to be in two places at the same time, and though it’s impossible, technology can make it a little more possible.
On Saturday afternoon, that was the case for me.
When the show was over, I flipped back over to the app, where I could watch a replay of the game to see how he had performed at the plate during his other at-bats while I was watching the play.
Before we left New York for home, I knew exactly how the game had gone, both for him and his team.
My parents attended very few of my Little League games when I was a boy. They never saw me sprint, long jump, or pole vault as a member of the track team. Never attended any of the band shows in my six years with the high school marching band and drum corps.
The fact that I can be sitting in a Broadway theater while monitoring Charlie’s game is a delightful thing and also a slight punch in the gut:
A reminder of how much I want to be watching my kids’ games and recitals and concerts and cubing tournaments and everything else, and how I can’t imagine not wanting to.
Charlie’s team lost 12-3, which was unfortunate, of course, but I missed all of that. I did not bear witness to the frustration, disappointment, and sadness of an afternoon spent in the sun without a victory.
Instead, I watched a great play in a beautiful theater in the company of Elysha. Enjoyed omlettes at the Carnegie Deli. Walked the streets of Manhattan.
Not an afternoon in the sun on the edge of a ballfield, but still pretty great.
