Ah the joys of being a parent to an athlete. With each season comes a new sport and with each new sport, comes new equipment, new “must haves”. The “Eastbay Catalog” is a coveted item in our house and oldest looks forward to what seems like the weekly arrival of the newest one in the mail. 

     With each new season, the stalking begins. First begins the casual conversation. “You know Mom,” my oldest says, “I need new cleats for baseball.” “Your cleats from last year are just fine.” I will reply. “Actually, not really”, he retorts. “The metal cleats on the bottom are wearing out.” At which point he will go to the garage and bring a sample, smelly, dirty, and plopped in my lap.

     Now it’s time to educate the ignorant (me). I have the privilege of learning about all the new technology on the market, how it will improve his game, what the other boys are wearing this time of year and how, if I really loved him…. well, you know the rest.

     At strategic locations throughout the house, I now begin to find said Eastbay Catalog”, open to a particular page with a piece of equipment circled, helpfully, in red. One does not have to look hard to find the paraphernalia, in the bathroom, the kitchen, next to the computer and in the car, all open to the same page and circled, conveniently, in the same red ink.

     As I connect to the internet, I am thrilled to find that my ‘favorites’ bears a half dozen or so pages of cleats, bookmarked for my review, from the online catalog. In fact, if I check my checkout basket on Eastbay.com, surprise! I can find pairs of cleats conveniently placed, ready for checkout. 

     Why, you might ask, don’t we just shop the sales at Big 5? Well, not only am I blessed to be the parent of a multii-sport athlete, but, I also happen to be the parent of a pair of size 15 feet. To the best of my limited knowledge, I have yet to find that size sitting atop a sales table.

     Yes, the whole hunt takes several weeks. This morning, in a box big enough to hold a toaster oven, this season’s model arrived. As my youngest said, as we opened the box, “What was wrong with his cleats from last year?”

     Don’t get me started.