put me in, coach

my seven-year-old made her little league debut the other day, and i must say that her emotions leading up to the big game were rather surprising to me. normally seven does not express very much in the way of fear or apprehension, even when it is clear that she is fearful or apprehensive of impending circumstances. but in the hours before her t-ball season opener, seven openly admitted that she was nervous about playing in her first-ever organized sporting contest. "is there going to be another team there, dad?" she inquired. yes, of course, i replied. "but i don't think i'm ready to play against another team, dad." why not, i asked. "because we haven't practised enough. you were supposed to teach me how to catch a ball. you were supposed to teach me how to throw a ball. i don't think i wanna play." uh... i've tried to show you how to catch and throw many times. you've never shown much interest, i remarked. "but what if the other kids make fun of me?" you'll be fine, i assured her. of course, i wasn't really sure of that at all.

a few hours later, seven had taken up her perch in right field. it was the top of the first inning and she had yet to see any action up to that point in the match. suddenly a ball hit from an opposition bat was making its way towards her. seven steadied herself before bending over, snatching the ball, and then tossing a dart towards first base. the runner was safe by a foot or two but i and most of the other parents in attendance were absolutely shocked that someone had actually stopped a ball and thrown it to the proper base. good play, i shouted. seven started to beam. "good play, kid!" one of the other parents shouted. seven started to dance on the spot. a few batters later, another ball was hit in her direction and the results were the same. bend, catch, throw. this time one of the boys on seven's team tossed her a compliment. seven was really beaming now. ear to ear beaming. maybe she liked the boy. she likes just about every boy in her grade, but that's another post.

in the bottom half of the inning, seven had her first chance to show me if she had learned anything from our numerous batting lessons. she sheepishly stepped up to the tee and took her stance. as coach of the team, i stood behind her and gave her a few pointers as to where to position her hands and feet. ok, i said, now go ahead and hit. her first swing was strong and powerful, but unfortunately, the bat crashed against the rubber tee causing the ball to fall to the ground. her face dropped. i could see that seven was embarrassed. she looked at me with fear and apprehension. i didn't know what to say. a few seconds passed. i still didn't know what to say. "don't worry, baby. you can do it!' it was her mother, standing behind the backstop with our two-year-old in her arms. seven smiled. i lowered the tee slightly. yeah, you can do it, i whispered to her. this time, seven let loose with a mighty swing. and thankfully, i recognized the familiar crack of the bat making contact with the ball. the ball rolled firmly into left field. seven made her way to first base. my kid had just collected the first single of her t-ball career.

on the way home in the car, i asked my daughter if she had enjoyed herself that evening. "yeah, sure," she replied. "are the same boys gonna be there next week?"

"making the decision to have a child is momentous. it is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." - elizabeth stone

'nuff said: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbZDjnWtK1A