As I was decorating the tree, several questions came to my mind. The first was that, “I have no tree skirt.” The second was, “Where does one buy a tree skirt?” the third was, “Will any of these places have their decorations out early enough so that I can purchase a tree skirt right now?” And the fourth, and final thought that I eventually sat to ponder was, “Remember the gifts over the years that you have graciously received from under the tree, and on top of those tree skirts?”
As I thought about all of the presents I have received at Christmas’ past, from “Hot Wheels” to “Ninja Turtles,” from “Mouse Trap” to “Tornado Rex,” and from tube socks to track pants, there was one present under the tree which had a much longer lasting impact than the 18 minutes it took me to break everything else I received. That present was my first baseball glove, a gift that would set the stage for many years of recess, pre-dusk games, and full blown weekend series’.
But first, after opening it up, and with my eyes a glow, I was going to fill that sucker with my dad’s shaving cream, wrap it in twine, and put it under my bed frame. I was then going to sleep on it while I dreamt of the diving catches, and double plays it would soon help me turn.
I loved my Wilson glove.
Glove and Memories:
We all remember our first baseball glove. Of course, I am not talking about the, “older sibling hand-me-down dried sweat” glove to which the Nirvana song “Smells like Teen Spirit” was loosely based upon. I am talking about that first fresh leather glove you received which was ALL yours. It fit your hand perfectly, and continuously felt better with every catch that further moulded its inner padding to your knuckles.
Everyone’s glove was different, and everyone was proud of their own gloves particular features:
The Colour:Were you a traditionalist of the game? Then you went beige. The colour provided from the red, yellow or white logo was enough of an edge as you required for this classic look.
Were you a rebel without a cause? Then you went black. It was edgy and raw, like the member of a biker gang. If a biker gang member was 8 and was wearing grey polyester pants.
Or did you have another colour? Red or blue perhaps? If so, ... phhh showoff.
The Web: Were you the mysterious and elusive type? Then you had a closed off, cross-hatched basket hiding the ball like a Gold Glove Calibre Houdini.
Or were you the physicist? Then you took the streamlined approach, and let the wind go through an open, single cross-hatched pocket. This allowed you to break down your wind resistance as you hustled to make the play you Isaac Newton of the infield.
The Pocket:
Who signed the inside of yours? Who was your signature series player? It is common knowledge that if you had the glove with a major league players’ screen printed autograph, then clearly you were the next best thing to that all-star fielder actually playing for your team.
The Finger Slot:
All in, no exceptions, unless your name is Rick Vaughn.
We all tried it once, and no one tried it again, the one finger out strategy. It was particularly tempting if your glove had the sole index finger opening to slide it through. We would try it one time, thinking it firmed our grasp, or balanced our glove better, or basically just looked bad ass. The reason for trying it, is not remembered as clearly as the first time we caught a screaming liner, sprained our thumb, and called for mom in the stands. We kept all fingers in from that day forward, peeking at other players with a Freudian smirk whenever you saw someone on the other team making this painful rookie mistake. 
The Wrist Strap:
Were you quick off the draw? Then you went the way of a Velcro strap. Like shoes, Velcro on gloves was much more common, and accepted, as a youngster then as an adult. But, if you were able to rock it successfully in your senior years, Kudos to you friend, and to your tear-away pant collection as well!
Were you a knotty? The traditional way to secure your glove and give it the feel you want, the obscure knot you tied your glove’s leather laces with always followed the “Over under in and out...” strategic-knot-song, about as well as you followed the “Only two cookies after dinner” rule.People Got Me Questionin’ Where Is the Glove?
After thinking about what it looked like, how it felt, and how god awful it smelled, next think about, “Where is my old glove?”
Most held onto it dearly, unless you let your parents begrudgingly give yours (as stated above) to your younger sibling.
My brother did, and I took it, and left it on a park bench. I was never forgiven, and 15 years later I finally, owned up to my mistakes, and bought him a new one for his birthday.
To those of us who didn’t have to pass it along, you should reach into the old closet and pull out that old piece of leather, more worn in than the crotchety lady’s face who complains ahead of you in the morning coffee line.Hold up that glove and slide it on. It is worked in with all your years of childhood summers, and is filled with the memories of gallivanting about during family trips to the ballpark, with hopes of catching that one homer!
While you ponder your past together with your glove, be sure to look closely at it. In the faintest tone, you should still be able to see where mom initialled your name into the felt covering on the wrist strap, ensuring that the world knew:
“this glove was made just for you.”
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