Okay, so those who know me best knew there had to be a baseball post coming. Oh yeah, here it is...
Try not to fall asleep because I promise I am getting to the point.
First, let me say that when I was in high school, I did not enjoy watching baseball games. I was dating a guy who played football, basketball, golf, and baseball. As the dutiful girlfriend, I trudged to many, if not all, sporting events. To me, then, golf and baseball were definitely the least enjoyable to watch. I mostly just talked in the stands, ate candy bars, and clapped at the appropriate times.
Well, let's just say times have changed!!!
I don't know if I've simply developed an appreciation for America's sport or if my own flesh and blood playing has made all the difference. But I am a total, card-carrying Baseball Mom. Bar none.
Much to the disappointment and embarrassment of my friend, I have even changed my cell phone ring tone to "Centerfield," by Jon Foggerty. The younger moms on my younger son's team probably have never even heard of Foggerty. And please remember, I have never claimed to NOT be a dork.
I started wondering the other day why I love baseball so much. I'm from Kentucky and I absolutely adore basketball. My small high school was very good in football and has won the state tournament numerous times. So why is it that baseball evokes such emotion from me now? How can I watch my son play basketball or soccer and stay so laid back about the whole thing? Not that I don't celebrate their accomplishments, and it's not that I don't enjoy watching and love to see them play. But when I watch them play baseball my emotions roller coaster from elation to feeling as if I could vomit. I feel almost electrical watching them play. I've been thinking about it, and I think I've figured it out.
I like soccer, but what usually happens, is that there are two people or so on the team who totally dominate and everyone else just runs back and forth. I realize it's not really fair for me to say this, because my older son decided after about three seasons that he did NOT want to play soccer anymore. I was okay with that, because of course I simply want them to find what they enjoy and "do" that. But I couldn't help but wonder why he had scratched soccer off of his list.
"Why don't you want to play soccer anymore?" I asked. "Well, Mom," he said. "I just don't really like to kick." If any of you out there has an answer for that one, more power to you. Because to me, it seems like there just isn't a whole lot you can add to that.
So maybe it's unfair for me to say that about soccer. I'm sure when they get older it gets WAY more interesting. Let's just say we never got far. The whole not-liking-to-kick thing sort of ruined my ability to see older kids play soccer. But my younger son still likes it, so who knows. I may change my tune when I actually get to see it when the kids have actual "positions."
My older son has no interest in football. It's a good thing too, because I wouldn't let him play tackle until he is in middle school anyway. I've heard too much from REAL football players, a Heisman winner (on TV), pediatricians, etc., to know that there are so many health reasons not to that there is no way I would go for that. So good thing he isn't interested. But even if he were, I can tell you the reasons I wouldn't like it. First of all, I would worry about every hard hit, and from what I have heard, there is a lot of sitting on the bench for the so-so players. And I assure you that if my child were on that field practicing or playing in the hot, deep south for five days (insane), I'm not sure I would be too happy with two minutes of playing time. And I'm not really sure how I would explain it to my son. Sure would be a lot easier to explain to a 10th grader than a 6-year-old.
I remember walking in Academy Sports one day watching this big guy mash a big old helmet down on his little boy's head. The boy was whining because the helmet was hurting him. His dad responded, "You'd better get used to it!" Oh boy. Did the little boy really want to play, or did daddy not make his high school team?
Anyhow, my youngest son, who is only four, came out of the womb knowing how to tackle. One time during soccer he ran down the field, then off the field, and tackled a man squatting on the sidelines with a camera.
My four-year-old uses tackling as a way of saying hello. I'm going to have a heck of a time holding him off from tackle football until middle school.
Sorry, let me quit rambling and tell you why I love little league baseball.
First off, every single kid gets to play. They all get to bat, they all get to field, and they all get equal playing time. Are they all equally good? Of course not. But they all practice, and they all try to improve, so they all get to play. They may not play the position they are hoping for, but that has to be earned. That is where they learn that practice earns you a better position. But there aren't little kids pouting on the bench because they aren't getting any play time.
During football and basketball, everyone is screaming and cheering throughout the game, which of course happens in baseball. But here is what is so cool about baseball...there is nothing like when your child is up to bat and everyone, I mean EVERYONE, is cheering for YOUR child. It's like your child is on stage and everyone wants to see him succeed. As a parent, it is one of the best feelings ever.
But of course there is the flip side. There is nothing that causes me more angst than when my child is up to bat with two outs and the bases loaded. I seriously need a barf bag. Talk about pressure. That "child on stage" thing is awesome, with the exception of this. But I promise, when your child is playing, there is no "boring" in the sport of baseball.
I remember when my older son first started baseball. Ahem...let's just say that we weren't on the upcoming All-Star list and leave it at that. But my child LOVED it, and so we kept it up. No matter how bad he was in the beginning (and honestly I don't know if he even remembers now how brutal those first couple of years were) he STILL wanted to play baseball. He loved it, so we loved it too.
One season his team lost every single game. I pretty much knew it was the end. I mean, how can you practice that much, show up at every practice numerous times a week, and STILL want to play baseball? But he didn't bat an eye. He wanted to play...again.
Now, his improvement to me, is amazing. He has gotten better every year, not from natural born talent, but from hard work and perseverance. It's almost a blessing that he started off the way he did. If he had started out good, what would that have taught him? But I feel he has learned one of life's most important lessons. Never, EVER, give up, and if you work hard at something you will get better. Baseball has taught him that, and I didn't have to say a word.
I admit I still see parents taking it all too seriously. I have heard a mom yell for her 6-year-old to "put a skirt on!" Classy, huh? I've heard parents curse. I've even seen coaches run the clock down so the other team didn't get a chance to bat again. And when I see adults acting like that, my blood pressure rises. Sometimes my husband has had to put his hand on my knee to remind me to remain calm.
Good parents and, of course, a good coach are detrimental to a good season. If you have a coach who teaches bad sportsmanship, screams and screams at the kids, or one who puts the bad players in the outfield and only works with the All-Star material -- run, and run fast. One horrible season can make your child hate the sport, any sport.
We are lucky to have a coach who wants EACH and every child to improve. He wants the kids to have fun and improve. And we couldn't ask for anything better.
But to all of these parents who act this way, not only are you embarrassing your child, but your child is going to end up HATING the sport that you want him or her so desperately to like. You are sinking your own ship.
I am so much more laid back this time around. My four-year-old is playing coach-pitch ball now. In two games he hasn't hit the ball once. It clearly didn't bother him because after the game he said, "I got to try to hit the ball THREE times!" He called me over to the dugout twice to hug me (LOVE it)!
Sometimes when he is in the outfield he spins around and around until he is dizzy and then staggers around like a drunk leaving a bar. That is only when he is not walking back and forth across the field kicking up dirt. I'm sure some of the more hardcore parents don't find this amusing. But all I have to say about that is that this isn't this mama's first rodeo.
I know there will come a time when his hand/eye coordination will click. I know there will come a time when he is more focused. But why in the heck would I want to speed things up. For now, let him be a happy kid and just have fun. It's fun to sit back and enjoy the show.
Yes, he has missed the ball every time so far. In the past, with my first child, I would have been mortified.
But all I can think now is, YES, he has struck out so far, but think, just THINK about the first time he actually HITS the ball!!!
Think about when that finally happens just how SPECTACULAR that is going to be!
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