Beat on the hat, with a baseball bat.

Yesterday, Dr. Seuss would have turned 105 years old. This got me thinking about hats. Namely baseball hats and how many I have managed to acquire over the years. Baseball caps hold a special place in some fans’ hearts and become almost a partner in crime for all things relating to their lives and their teams. I know that over the years I have owned numerous Yankees hats but this last one (pictured below) has been through the most. Not only has this baby suffered through countless post-season defeats, but it’s also come along for many other adventures over the past 6 years.

In order for a hat to really be broken in and cherished in that unique way a few things must happen. First, sweat, and a lot of it, allows the hat to form into a perfectly molded cover for your dome. The repeated process of moistening and drying allows for optimal personalization. I would say two summers worth before the hat truly reaches its zenith of stench/awesomeness. Here’s Joe of E.E. 2.0’s hat which is well on it’s way to becoming a potent, and I do mean potent accessory to his die hard love of the pinstripes:

Another factor which plays into this important process is repeated throws when your opponent rips a double down the line with two men on to put your team down by 2 in the 9^th. One of my favorite moves is the hat-punt which much like the throw, can be used during both celebrations and expressions of frustration. Thirdly, I think the hat must be temporarily lost. I never noticed how much I valued my Yankee hats until one day while getting ready to go out or flip on the game, I found myself lifting up couches and tearing through my car looking for my faded blue buddy. The panic which sets in at times like these is unprecedented. (Think of Tom Hanks in “Castaway” upon losing his pineapple-volleyball friend “Wilson”.)

Upon finding the hat, I once again realized that the piece of cloth adorned with the beloved inter-locking NY was not just a hat, but a lighthouse of sanity in an ever more complicated and confusing world. As Joe has already mentioned the Yanks love to put their name on anything and everything so their logo is seen just about everywhere. People rock NY hats of all shapes and sizes regardless of if they follow the team or have even been to a game. So what makes this small piece of merchandise such a meaningful symbol of my love for my team and the Rolodex of memories associated with the Yankees?

Why am I waxing poetic about a baseball cap? Well, this baby has been through a lot with me. Just check the list of things it has endured: Paint, oil, gasoline, sunscreen, both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, that pond on the 14^th hole at La Costa, blood (my own), a Giants Super bowl Victory and subsequent drunken celebration, L.A. traffic, Iron Maiden concerts (two), beers (foreign, domestic, and bar-floor flavored), the Hudson River, old stadium bleachers, road trip to Florida, and Kei Igawa, just to name a few.

So as we approach yet another summer full of baseball, take a look at your favorite hat, and think of all the things good and bad, that it has been through with you. I bet it makes you think twice about running out to Lids and getting the new Pink and green “throwback”.