Last month I had to have a very difficult talk with Young Ladrinka.
“Sit down, Young Ladrinka,” I told him. “I have to tell you something that is not easy.”
“I’m already sitting down,” he said. He was sitting on the couch next to me, but I don’t believe in looking at children. I’m not helicopter parent, you know.
“Well, yes. This will make the news I have to tell you easier to take,” I took a deep sigh. “Ike Davis is no longer my favorite player.”
“Who cares?” He was in deep denial. See, when your mother has a favorite Mets player and it’s Ike Davis and then suddenly, without any warning, it’s no longer Ike Davis, that can really shatter a child.
“I’m sure Ike cares. He’s probably devastated.” And I definitely felt guilty about it. I was an Ike Davis fan for years, all through his time of being on the disabled list. But when he returned to play this season, I realized that I liked him better on the DL list, when he was just sitting there, looking all full of potential.
“He doesn’t even know who you are,” Young Ladrinka was nonplussed. (By the way, can’t we just say minused instead of nonplussed?)
“Do you want to know who my favorite player is now?” I asked.
“Whatever,” he demanded to know.
“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell Ike.”
“Mom, I don’t even know him! And he doesn’t care.”
“I think it would be very painful for Ike to learn that Duda, oops, that totally slipped out, is now my favorite.”
“Why is Duda your favorite, because he hits home runs?”
Finally, Young Ladrinka promised to keep this news from Ike. But I don’t think he did. Because last night Ike Davis hit a home run. Coincidence? Or Ike trying to win me back?