Some years ago I got all dressed up in a tuxedo and said, “I do.” What I didn’t realize at the time was these words would automatically obligate me help Amy coach Erin in t-ball. On a tangent, I believe everyone learns something from participating in team sports. With that in mind, have you ever tried coaching a 5-year-old who already knows all there is to know about t-ball? Undoubtedly, I am “grasshopper” learning patience from the baseball sensei, Erin. Hai.
During our first couple of t-ball practices I struggled to keep a straight face; however, I was rolling on the ground with psychological tears running down both cheeks on the inside.
Let me share why. First, Amy informed her team their uniform shirts would be red and then asked what they wanted their team name to be hinting it should be something red. Without hesitation someone shouted, “Apples!” Other red names mentioned were “Roses” and “Tomatoes.” Finally, Amy decided the team would be the Red Socks. Then, there was a little accident when one of the fielders stepped on the ball and found herself horizontal instead of vertical. Next, but not surprisingly, the ice cream truck stole the attention of every player. Driving by once would have been understandable, but I am sure that truck circled the block 7 or 8 times. Finally, one of the players, who happened to be running the bases, asked when they would be able to slide. For a moment I was certain we had a phenom. This player then elaborated by pointing to the playground slides. Of course!
Now a proud moment for Dad. Tyrel played baseball this week like a believer. As his team's catcher, he was a rock. As a hitter, he found his stroke. He was 2 for 3, but reached base all three times. His final at-bat was a home run scoring 3 runs as a result! This was needed as Mountain West and Dr Pepper were dead-locked going into the last inning. Nearly as important, all involved coaches for both teams conducted themselves as adults.
Tyrel's most recent game lacked a home run, but he displayed some nifty base running with 2 steals. He continued his stroke and was once again a rock.
Finally, we made a trip to Salt Lake to catch a Salt Lake Bees game. We were lucky to have family with connections so we got to watch the game from box seats (Scott, Maxine, and Kathy). This is the only way to watch baseball. The game happened to go extra innings with the Bees winning in their final at-bat. The Bees had runners on all 3 bases and no outs. I mentioned to Tyrel and Skyler (Tyrel’s cousin and a like-minded fanatic) that it would be great if the game ended with a home run. The next batter stuck out; however, the game ended as I had hoped. A grand slam ended the game.
Is there such a thing as too much baseball?