Rebuilding Rob

Thanks to Eric Fulton for this writing prompt. For those of you who don’t know, he is the geo- tracking, pizza-making mastermind of Eric Fulton’s blog. If you haven’t had a look yet, check it out!

What’s something you still refuse to learn because you survived this long without it?

One thing I can think of right off the top of my head that I refuse to learn—simply because I’ve gotten by this far without it—is keeping score at a baseball game.

Don’t get me wrong; I understand the principles. I get the rationale of identifying each position with a number, hence the “6-4-3” double play in the scorebook. I don’t have anything against it, either. I see people keeping score and think it’s cool that they want a play-by-play souvenir of the afternoon. But for me? It’s just not happening.

I think the biggest reason I refuse to learn is that there’s too much else going on. If I’m at the park with someone, I want to talk to them. I want to enjoy the atmosphere. I want to actually watch the game. I know that people who keep score are paying attention to every pitch and every at-bat, but for me, it’s more about experiencing the nuance and the flavor of the day.

Maybe I’m just protective of the one place where I don’t have to be “productive.” In a world of “Tricorders” and constant digital tracking, the ballpark is a sanctuary where I refuse to let data get in the way of the soul of the game. As someone who values completion, I’d also hate the idea of jumping into an unfinished scorecard if I arrived late due to traffic or left early during a blowout. By leaving the pencil in the bag, I avoid the anxiety of a “broken” record and stay focused on the pictures I can take and the memories I can make.

I’ve started thinking of it as my baseball kryptonite. Everyone has that one thing they just don’t do. In Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Ferris didn’t own a car, but he could do everything else perfectly. For me, it’s the scorebook.

I could learn how. I just choose not to. I know people love to tell stories about learning to keep score from their dad or grandfather, and I think that’s a beautiful tradition. If I ever do finally give in and learn, it’ll likely be for that reason alone: just so I can pass the skill down to my kids or, God willing, my grandchildren.

So, I’ve shown my cards. Keeping score is my baseball kryptonite—the one thing I’ve survived this long without learning. What about you? What’s that one common skill or ‘essential’ task that you’ve successfully avoided all these years? Drop it in the comments!

For a long time, I’ve been sharing my thoughts here on the page—navigating the ‘art of moving slowly’ and the ‘audacity of potential.’ This Wednesday, the conversation evolves. I’m officially launching season 2 of my podcast, and I’d love for you to join me in this newly repackaged space.

Watch this space on Wednesday for the season premiere link!

Thanks for stopping by Rebuilding Rob. Be sure to like 👍, comment, and subscribe below. It’s greatly appreciated! Also, feel free to follow me on social media and check out my recent posts!

• My Baseball Kryptonite
• The Boy Who Looked at His Feet
• Even White People Get Ashy
• The Tricorder in My Pocket
• Challenger 40: The Generational Echo

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The article “My Baseball Kryptonite” first appeared on Rebuilding Rob.