Oh, for the love of the game. Can we not just let kids play ball when they are little and not try to shape them into who we wanted to be and never were? I’m just sayin….I could easily fall into that trap with my child because I was never the best at anything physical, but thankfully I don’t engage in such behavior because what I lack in athletic talent, I’m off the chart in good sense.
Being a parent is one of the hardest jobs on earth. I mean, if you want to do it it right and with all your might. Watching your kid struggle and succeed all in the same breath is an experience like none other and cannot be expressed with words really. Moms just know and have this look they give each other that basically says “yep, I see your baby. shine on, mama.”
|Henry and his best buddy (2017)|
My son has the character that many grown men could only wish to have. He has done well accepting the fruit basket the Holy Spirit has given him (aka- fruits of the spirit) …except for the that ole patience plum. We could use a little extra care with that one. He cares more than his daddy and I can usually comprehend and it often leaves us defeated and deflated but it also leaves us proud and encouraged more times than not. Henry is a thinker, a doer and a lover of all. His compassion is convicting to my mama heart on a daily basis. Don’t be thinking he is perfect. He gets spanked and sent to his room almost daily…so its a struggle and success all in one, all the time…all the time. But that’s all of us, isn’t it? That’s why we have a savior, thank heavens!
|practicing in the backyard (2017)|
So, there is this thing called city league sports. Remember it? Well, it ain’t yo daddy’s league no mo! I loathe it will all my being but how do you tell your child “no” when he wants to play? The competition is fierce and its mostly fueled by the daddy on the baseline who probably never played. Well, we just aren’t those people at our house. I grew up with a daddy who supported city league ball and invested all his summers in them. If you know my daddy, you probably picture him on the field. All got a chance and all were taught the same game. “Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game” was the motto when we were kids. It was taught to us by our parents because that generation believed it and lived it.
Well, let me just tell ya, the rise in competition is fierce for our kids overall but sports takes the cake thanks to all these competition/travel teams. I have wonderful, dear friends who do this with their kids and it is a family affair that they enjoy. It works for them and we cheer them on. I also see friends who didn’t do it and their kids aren’t picked for upper grade teams at school because of it. Boys not on AAU basketball or travel baseball teams have quit playing school sports because they don’t want to be rejected. It’s a shame. The community and school sports teams as we knew them are gone by the waste side and it makes me mad and so sad. The kid who loves the game, the kid who just wants to play, the one who wants to be on a team and wear a uniform is forgotten.
My child is that kid. But he is 8. He is amazing at tennis but he wants to keep playing baseball. We paid $60 for city league baseball again this year knowing most boys his age that can “play” are already on travel teams. We begged him not to. We offered to give him the the $60 instead. But he insisted he play because he loves being on a team and wearing the uniform and the nights under the lights. He loves when his babysitter and her gang come see him play and cheer him on. He is 8. You can’t say no even though we know its not the same 8 as it was when we were 8. Nonetheless, he is 8 and God wires all 8 years old’s the same no mater the generation. He is God and he stays the same.
|Headed to a game (2017)|
So, to the dad beside me at practice, chewing on your tobacco like a cow chews its cud. You didn’t know who I was or that I was listening to you tell the other parents my son was no good and laughed about him hoping to get a response out of them but instead got one from me. His mom. I hope you swallowed a little of that tobacco juice when I spoke up and told you what for in the most classy way I could through my sunglassed, tear filled eyes while never turning my head to acknowledge you. It’s people like you who are raising bullies. Stop it. The parents spending more time on character than batting practice beg you to stop being a bully. You, rude sir, are why our kids have more active shooter drills than tornado drills. You are one of many, but we character building parents will snuff you sorry dogs out all day long. Go join a travel team and let the character building mamas spending their hard earned dollars and weekends shut your bullying up and let us have our league back. (In my best Julia Sugarbaker voice. boo-yah!)
|batter up (2017)|
“Let the field be joyful and all that is in it.” Psalm 96:12
AKA – #11’s mom