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The Fullerton Angel(s) of Placentia


Originally published 2/15/11 at

If you have followed me here for any time, then you know I have struggled with the fact that I’m a Dodger fan living in Orange County. I’ve always been of the opinion that because I like the Dodgers does not mean I have to hate the Angels… I root for them. In fact, I was deeply rooted on the band wagon in 2002 when they won the World Series.

Fullerton Angel of Placentia

I like the Angels, and admit that they have a far better fan experience than Dodger Stadium does (especially since there’s now a divorce tax on all concessions at Chavez Ravine). I just don’t actively follow the inaptly named Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim…

All that is about to change. Forget Angels in the outfield; I now have one in my living room. Jackson Bush, #24, is now a member of the Placentia Foal T-Ball Angels, otherwise known to me as the Fullerton Angels of Placentia. So now I am paternally and duly obligated to encourage, nurture and follow the Angels, that includes all Angels, even those who reside in Los Angeles… err, Anaheim.

While I’d like to rest my pro-career dreams on those little, able, red-jersey-ed shoulders, I think it best I just let the slugger have fun. If the first few practices are any indication, he’ll be better suited in the Media Relations office of Anaheim Stadium than on any field. He took the time out of his busy fielding schedule to stop the coach and let him know that “That’s my mommy in the black shirt and my daddy in the green shirt,” pointing to the make-shift bleachers off of first base.

While shagging grounders, he was discussing what I can only imagine was either Clone Wars or our nation’s fiscal policy with one of the parent-helpers, all the while his back was facing hope plate.  When I implored him to “look at home plate,” he bent over and sneaked an upside-down peek between his legs.

One of the training drills involved throwing the squishy t-balls through a hula hoop; to my chagrin, I found him playing with it while the other kids were on to another drill, running the bases.

There was also the occasion where he took the high-five to an all new level… the full embrace of his teammates.

He did, however, ask some probing questions of the coach when he pointed at the white rectangle in the middle of the infield and inquired what it was. The coach responded “that’s the rubber.” As any good media relations stalwart would do, he posed a follow-up interrogative, “What’s a rubber?” The coach told him that it’s where the pitcher stands. Jack said “oh,” acknowledging the skipper and then followed his pregnant pause with this doozie: “What’s a pitcher?”

Jack may be an Angel now, but the coach… he’s a saint.

One Comment leave one →
  1. 02/23/2011 4:35 am

    You will get to answer that poignant question (the first one) twice (if you’re lucky).

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