Sisters First by Jenna Bush Hager

Author:Jenna Bush Hager
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2017-10-24T04:00:00+00:00

First Pitch

BARBARA

Baseball has always been our family sport. Though Jenna and I were pathetic, dare I say shitty, players, we spent hours practicing with a yellow plastic bat while our dad threw slow pitches in the front yard. In our team softball games, we’d play our positions, but I preferred to get lost in left field—making rings out of long grass stems or practicing dance moves until a ball bounced in my direction. I’d panic at both my delayed reaction and the distance I had to throw, while my parents watched, elbowing each other, laughing.

Before politics, professional baseball was front and center in our lives. We went to baseball games the way other families sat down to a nightly dinner. We had four seats in a row, and when the Texas Rangers were in town, we would be in the stadium. Our dad was one of the owners, but more than that, he loved (and still loves) to sit beside our mom and watch the game. Jenna and I, however, could stand to sit in our assigned seats only for the first few pitches and then we would take off, winding our way through the concourse and the stands—a huge playground for almost nine innings. We stopped to have our baseball cards made. We almost always got ice cream scoops in miniature baseball hats—exotic flavors like white chocolate macadamia nut—or when it was deep into summer, the delicious frozen lemon chill. At home we watched very little television, since it was off-limits on school nights, so one of our favorite things to do was to sneak into the owner’s box and turn on the TV. We’d watch scandalous Lifetime movies like Love, Lies and Murder, which we’d never be allowed to watch at home. We got away with it, too, until the seventh-inning stretch, when my mom would stand up and turn around to look for us. She would invariably see Jenna and me, dancing the do-si-do together to whatever country song was playing over the loudspeaker in the stadium. She would also see the TV glowing in the background. If we caught her eyes, she would shake her head and mouth “off,” and we would sheepishly find the remote and head back down to our designated row.

While my friends were into boy bands or teen heartthrob actors, Jenna and I were obsessed with baseball players. When we walked through the underground of the stadium with my dad, we would peek around a corner or pause outside the locker-room door, hoping for a glimpse of the catcher, the outfielders, the shortstop, or the second baseman. To us, they looked like movie stars. Jenna’s favorite was Rubén Sierra and mine was Julio Franco. We would go crazy whenever they were at bat. We would cheer and cheer, “Go, Rubén!”; “Go, Julio!” until we were hoarse. I still remember Julio Franco’s wedding; he wore a gold tux and kissed us each on the cheek. I considered it my first real kiss; the fact that he was marrying another woman meant nothing.

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