Friday, February 19, 2010

A Fan is Born

Last Friday, Scott's wife Orit gave birth to their first child: A six-pound, eight-ounce baby boy named Asher.  He's my first official friend's kid.

I'd normally take a moment to wonder what Asher's childhood might be like.  But in this case, it isn't necessary.  I already know.

Long before the two of them got married, I remember us all going to Mets games together.  On the way to the stadium, Scott would 'test' Orit on the Mets lineup and positions in the field.  It wasn't enough for her to know Beltran, Wright, and Reyes, however.  She had to know everyone.  "We've been over this, honey!  Jose Valentin hits 8th!"

In January 2007, when Scott first called me to tell me he was getting married, I caught an unmistakable twinge of guilt in his voice.  "The date's October 26th," he said.  "And I'm not happy about it. 

"The Giants play the Dolphins that day....and it's Game 4 of the Mets' World Series -- assuming we make it."  My mind started racing, thinking about the ways we'd check scores.  "I know," he said. "I don't know what to do."

At the hospital, the night after Asher was born, Orit woke from a nap to find Scott holding the baby with one arm, and checking espn.com on his phone with the other.  "I was telling him about the Mavs-Wizards trade," he said.  "I can't believe they got Caron Butler!"

On Monday, I went to visit baby Asher.  The new parents and I sat and talked for a while, and I even got to hold him for a bit.  It was an incredible -- and totally surreal -- experience.  It's one thing when your friends start getting married, but when they have kidsThat's when you know you're a grown-up.

I thought of the pictures of my parents' friends holding me when I was a few days old.  That was me now!  I imagined us all sitting around the dinner table twenty or thirty years from now, and telling Asher how far he's come, and how 'I remember holding him when he was just a three-day-old baby'.  Just the way my parents' friends do when they see me.  Then Scott hit me on the shoulder.

"So anyway," he said, as I rocked his baby to sleep.  "How bad is UConn this year?"