When G started t-ball four years ago he was not the kid who played with dandelions in the outfield. My son has always been very intense, very eager to please, which meant he over thought every step of every play in every t-ball game; playing with dandelions never crossed his mind, because playing with weeds would not have been obeying the coaches. This over-thinking lead to errors in the outfield: from letting another kid grab the ball because it might have technically been that other kid’s, or running from the outfield to the pitcher with the ball when the ball should have been thrown because G was not yet confident in his abilities to throw the ball, but he WAS confident in his abilities to run with it.
As other moms promised would happen but about which I was skeptical, my son has learned appropriate aggression on the ball field.
In the first game of the season, G twice ran for and fielded a grounder that was not technically his. After the second occurrence his teammate frustratedly hollered at him, “That’s not your ball!” To which G shrugged his shoulders and said, “You should have run up and got it.”
Thursday night G was the third baseman. The kid at bat hit the ball to the pitcher, who caught it and threw the ball to G, who had the kid from second coming toward him. G caught the ball clean and stomped on third base, forcing out the kid from the other team.
And I just thought, Whoa. My kid totally knows what he’s doing. No hesitation, no fumbling, no over-thinking or over-awareness that an entire crowd was watching his move. He just caught the ball, got the kid out, and threw the ball to the pitcher to stop the play.
That is what makes your kid’s baseball game fun to watch. For me, it used to just be fun to watch my cute little son on the field, foibles and all. Now that there’s a real game occurring in front of me and my son is an intrinsic part to the game, it’s exciting.
I’m finally understanding all those sports moms.