Friday, June 19, 2009

Tee Ball Mom

Somehow I have given birth to a jock. It's not that I'm unathletic--I played a fair game of tennis back in the day and wasn't immune to running long distances now and again--but I'm totally noncompetitive. I clutch in the clutch. I drop easy pop flies, miss simple shots. I have absolutely no game.

Will, he's got game. He is focused and assured. He's in the zone. He is six and king of the Tee Ball field.

Yesterday was his first game. I believe "organized chaos" would be overstating the case of what went on. "Anarchy in a Baseball Cap" comes closer. In Tee Ball, certain rules are relaxed. You can strike out, but it takes awhile. Three outs might or might not retire a side. Sometimes getting ten runs, one after another, retires the side.

It will come as no surprise to many of you that the parents are already out of control, even at this early stage. Okay, mostly the dads. My first sign of this was when the other side went up to bat. Our team--the Red Dragons--seems to be pretty laid-back, parental-wise. I liked that everyone clapped for every play, no matter whose team was up. That's the tee ball spirit! But when the Blue team came up to bat, the other side went wild. They were cheering and chanting. I think it psyched their guys out, quite frankly. The Red Dragons were victorious in the end, 17-15.

Of course, a score of 17-15 tells you everything you need to know about the quality of the defense.

Except, that is, for Will. I try not to brag about my kids too much in this space because it's unbecoming and nobody wants to hear it. Yeah, yeah, all our kids are geniuses.. But I'll brag on Will a bit, just because he's earned it. The kid is out back every day playing catch with his pitch-back contraption. He's fielding, he's throwing, he's batting. And I will say with some pride that the other parents were saying, "Who's that kid on third with the arm?"

"That's my boy," I said, mentally thumping my chest. My little jock.


We are off to the beach tomorrow. I'm thoroughly unprepared, so today--when the temperatures will be soaring close to one hundred--I'll be running around like a crazed person, buying groceries, washing clothes, and getting out the sheets and towels we'll need for our rental house.

I don't think our beach house has wireless, so I'll see you week after next, assuming I'm not eaten by a shark. Until then, be good, hug your children, and eat some good chocolate. You've earned it.


Pom Pom said...

YOU are a fantastic writer! I love your commentary! I will miss you while you are at the beach! I love your words about Will! Go Will! I remember Tee Ball. Our Kelli threw the bat! It was funny and CRAZY! I agree with you about the parents! It's nutty to watch some of them go bananas, huh? You can brag here! Will sounds like he considers baseball an art! I like that! Have a wonderful time! Take pictures and write things down. We'll all be waiting to hear! Wow, even though I know better, I use a lot of exclamation marks!

Angela said...

Have a wonderful time at the beach house. Yes, you can brag about your kids- esp when they have a skill which has nothing to do with you and your genes.
We are off to our place on Sunday night - and Bob is insistent we get WiFi installed soon, because we are both suffering Internet Withdrawal when we are there. How sad is that?

Tracy said...

Congratulations to the 'kid on third with the arm'! Isn't it funny how we produce these kids who end up being oh so different from us?!

Have a great time at the beach. Don't bring home too much sand and try not to melt in the heat!!!!

Gumbo Lily said...

Those who love the game and practice for the love of it are true jocks and have earned the title fair-and-square. Bravo T-ball Jock!

Happy Beach Week.


Pom Pom said...

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