Just Take Me Out

Baseball season recently ended for my son. His team finished third in their league for the second straight year. You could say the team's season ended with a whimper and not a bang. It was another LONG season. In fact a very long season. In a way, it's kind of sad that after spending almost 5 months with a group of boys (and their parents) you finish the regular season and tournament and that is it. It's over! No more practices, no more batting cages, no more baseball pants to be washed (and washed), and no more games. Nothing. Sad, it really is sad.

Strike three!  You're OUT!

Although it was a long season, it was enjoyable for two (2) reasons. First, my son has matured and grown (he's still growing!) into a much more confident ball player. He's very laid back, so I would never call him a cocky, self-sure athlete, but he definitely impressed me with his "can do and will do" attitude. Even when he was in a hitting slump, he would say that he knew he could do better and, usually, would hit the ball next time up-at-bat. I was very proud when his last at-bat during our final tournament game was a hard shot to left center field that easily landed him on second base. (Then he got thrown out trying to steal third - a bad call - but I won't dwell on that play.) I'm not sure my son will ever "love" baseball like I did and still do, but I'm glad he continues to play with some enthusiasm even as he becomes another one of those teenage "zombies" most parents endure for three or four years.

Second, my son's team this season was comprised of guys that he knew, so it made it easy for everyone to be themselves and not expend to much of their teenage angst worrying about proving their worth to their teammates. In addition to their playing positions, everyone had an stereotypical role to play on the team. There was the outspoken player(s), the class clown, the quiet guy, the nerd, the short guy, and a couple of "Steady Eddies." (I know, an old term, but it definitely fits in with my old fashioned perspective on a great game.) These guys were sometimes hilarious, sometimes annoying, and sometimes adorable in the way they interacted with one another. It was a lot of fun to watch them bond together the way they did - through wins and losses. (I always felt that boys do this a little better than girls.) But then it came to a screeching halt as the third strike was called, and the game was over.

It would be great if we could keep kids together like this all the time, similar to when I was growing up. Playing and arguing between friends and neighbors in the way kids are supposed to interact. Not thrown together for a few months and then scattered to the wind. Oh well, just to be a part of a team once again. That would be great!