Was I upset when my nice, talented son came to me with tears in his eyes and said that he was being forced by the terrible money men to leave the town we call home and move across the entire of North American continent like Lewis and Clark? Yeah. I was upset. Did I beg him not to leave, to perhaps stay a few years, to merely wait for me to wither from old age and die instead of going so suddenly, not even allowing me to move with him? No. Of course, I did not beg. Because I respect him, my son, Trea Turner, the professional baseball player, and I want only love and light for him.
My beautiful son. I remember when he was so young. Was I there the night that he first stepped under the bright lights of Nationals Park, a wee lad, on August 21, 2015, for his first major league baseball game? No, I was not. I never claimed to be a perfect mother. But I did watch the game on television. If anything, I am a sucker for a young fast player who wants to play shortstop but is trapped in center field while someone else fumbles the ball. I watched him most nights for seven years. Watched him move to short, watched him beat out easy ground balls with his terrifying speed, clapped with joy over a well-placed bunt, and watched his surprising power when (every once in a while) he smashed a ball out of the park. Was I crushed when I learned he had done some offensive tweets? Yes. But love is love. I forgave him because he apologized. I still have the scoresheet from July 23, 2019, when he hit for the cycle. I'm sentimental, sue me!
Anyway, he left me. He is now with the Los Angeles Dodgers. He has not even written me a letter. My own son! But I forgive him for this too, because he is thriving!!!!!
Look at him!!! Last night Trea Turner extended his 14-game hit streak last night with a nice, smacking double near the left field line in the first inning. His batting average is currently .324, which is the highest in the National League. He is also best in the NL in stolen bases and hits. He's doing so well.
But I realized, during last night's game, that he is not being appreciated appropriately. Everyone in Los Angeles is acting like Trea Turner just learned how to slide when he has been a flawless slider since birth. "I didn't even know he slid like that," Dave Roberts said, according to the announcers of last night's game versus the Padres.
Do you know how wonderfully he slides?
Look at him, my baby. Helping his team. Did he do this slide every week in Washington D.C., and in the World Series a mere two years ago? He sure did. But the people of Los Angeles cannot be expected to know everything I, his mother, know. I cannot wait for them to learn about the way he floats in the air for way too long when he throws from deep short. What a treat that will be for them. They barely know anything about him because their team is so stacked with stars. But I watched the Nationals try out what felt like 100 second basemen, while Trea Turner vacuumed up every ball within 40 feet of him.
In last night's game, the Dodgers went down to the Padres due to two frankly very embarrassing infield errors. They were down 9-5 entering the seventh. Mookie Betts—some other mother's son, also ripped from her bosom and transplanted to Los Angeles—hit a home run, and then there were three straight outs. In the bottom of the eighth, the Dodgers hit four straight homers. They won the game, 11-9.
Four homers in the bottom of the eighth to take the lead? The Ravine was LOUD. pic.twitter.com/cBHZdxcBuh
— Los Angeles Dodgers (@Dodgers) September 30, 2021
Trea did not hit one of the homers. He didn't even have a very good night, with only that first hit, but I have seen him do this before, and he will help. My lanky son, despite moving so far from home in the middle of the season, is doing his best to save the Dodgers from a horrific fate.
The Dodgers need wins. Ideally, they would simply win every game and also the Giants would drop 17 pop flies and somehow lose more games than that. And Trea Turner is doing his best. The National League West is an absolutely bonkers division filled with angst. The Giants have refused to abdicate the first-place throne since basically April.
That means that despite having won, as of last night, 102 games (lol), the Dodgers are in, say it with me, BIG TROUBLE. In any other division, the Dodgers would be in first place comfortably. Instead, they are in second place. Theoretically, this is fine because their record is so good but actually this is bad. Second place means Wild Card Single Elimination Game of Death, against the terrifying Cardinals who won 17 games straight (before last night) to clinch the second wild card. That's not the kind of momentum you want to face!
Even though he left me and now I can barely watch the horrific Washington Nationals, I do not wish the terrible WCSEGOD on him. No, he deserves many more games in the spotlight for Los Angeles to appreciate him the way I do. I am so proud of my negligent son!
