Mama's too far to celebrate Mother's Day, so here is to Papa

There's something about New England. Or maybe it is subhurbia in general, but living in this small town of Massachusetts you notice things that are beautiful and silly specifically to the area. This morning I went to my papa's softball game. The town has a league for men ages-well it's pretty much become any age after graduating high school-where you just go down to the Rose Garden (the town bar/restaurant) and sign up. The sign-ups are then distributed amongst a couple of teams (probobly 5 or 6) that play each other every Sunday morning. Each team's member is given a shirt that defines them with a color and sponsorship by some local business. My papa is on the maroon team and plays for Fin and Feather, Upton's hunting and fishery shop.
So being the proud daughter that I am and wanting to support my dad as he does something not work related, I road my bike down to the softball field today. Its a beautiful day: sunny, no clouds, flowers blooming on trees. The game had already started so I sat on the bleachers and took in the scene. The field was full of black and maroon t-shirt bearing men. I want to conclude that sentence with "looking as New England as ever" but I don't even know what I mean by that. Just a bunch of dudes with Mass accents trying hard not to act competitive but clearly wanting to win. Maybe it was in my head, but I kept getting that feeling that each of the older guys was thinking of a way that they would've played better if they were ten years younger.
I hope that doesn't come off as jugdemental. To be honest, I was full of secret pride for each of these men who were doing something with their Sunday morning other than watching TV or ignoring their kids (although I guess a few of them could have been). It felt so good to watch Americans being athletic, no matter their stage of athleticism.
Beyond that, I love seeing people together in a "good clean fun" environment. I was amongst a crowd of tots-young mothers cheering on a loved one. Every one of the children was wearing a Red Sox shirt or hat (this is what I mean by being oh-so-New England). I loved hearing people laughing, chatting, and cheering in the background. I loved having dogs running around me. One was named Nomar and his owner, the ump, after hearing that he had been rumbling with some other pup appropraitely said "Nomar get over here, you're being a pain in the ass just like you are with the Dogders".
Being in Upton is hard for me because I have to be creative with my time if I don't want to feel bored. It is far too easy to isolate myself here, and it has been a tendency of mine to hibernate while I'm here. Coming to see families and friends together in this town is both surreal and good for me. It feels good to know that this town isn't just a drought of happiness, but that people are mobile content with their lives. That families want to be together on a Sunday, in the name of their papas. That is one boat I can certainly float on.