day 48 | ‘protective cup’

May 1970. Davis, CA

when i signed up for little league i knew i wanted to play first base. i thought it was
the coolest position; stretching for a catch with one foot on the base, getting the
runner out by a hair. but when the coach asked me i didn’t say it. i thought i might
not be good enough, so i said “i don’t know.” “how about catcher?” he asked. that
was the one position i knew i didn’t want to play. i’d play anything, just not catcher.
but i said “ok”, thinking it was what the coach would want me to say.

he asked me if i had a cup. i wasn’t sure what he meant. he explained that
catchers have to wear a jock strap with a plastic guard in it to protect their private
parts in case the ball hits them there
that was the most humiliating thing i’d ever heard

when we had our first game i left my cup at home on purpose so i wouldn’t have to
play. the coach asked me about it in front of my dad – they were both staring at
me. i said i forgot it. after much serious discussion they decided my dad would
drive me home and get it. i felt so ashamed. i just wanted to not be on the team.
forget the whole thing

we went home, got the cup, and went back to the game
i played catcher and hated every minute of it