Sometimes grief works like that. Some people process it by trying to do something leisurely, or work to chase it away, while others prefer to not be active. I don't think it's very funny.

I mean, when my grandmother died (she was an absolute angel who raised me when my mother, her daughter, refused to and was more my mother than she was. And she didn't even bother to attend the funeral which I'm STILL pissed af over 6 years later...and now I'm reeling that it's really already been 6 years...) I went to a bar and got fucking plastered on jager shots donated by basically everyone there after it spread around why this random girl was crying at the bar...I got so drunk I pissed myself but I wasn't partying you know? It probably looked bad to some people, but I was just trying to cope with the worst loss of my life.

Anyway, I'm just trying to say that maybe him playing baseball doesn't mean he doesn't care much.