Braggin' Rights
Ok, so it’s no secret testosterone is running rampant in our household. We have blue bedrooms filled with sports paraphernalia and rockets. A backyard filled with sports equipment right next to a giant mud hole filled with construction trucks just right for afternoon baths. A garage crammed with bikes, scooters and other items that increase the motion of being propelled through space in one form or another at great speeds. Not to mention cupid brings rubber snakes and toy lawn equipment.
So it’s no shock that we eat, breathe and sleep baseball around here. My three year old’s life is baseball. In fact all of their lives revolve around it. The all time favorite movie is The Rookie, runner up: Angels in the Outfield. They don’t just sit and watch The Rookie, they get up right next to the TV and mimic every move right down to the hand twitching and raised eyebrows. They have the moves the lingo, all of it down. They not only know how to throw a fast ball, a curve ball… they can recognize the pitch. My 18 month olds favorite phrase: “Hit da ball”. We can be anywhere and these guys will start up a game. Just the other day I was at the deli counter ordering some ham and there they were in baseball mode. Swinging the pretend bat over his shoulder, leans in with intense focus…taps the floor twice with the bat. While the catcher squats behind delivering the play with secret hand signals and the pitcher digging into the mound, winding up and then throwing the most perfect pitch ever thrown by man
and then he SWINGS! He runs, rounding the imaginary bases around the bread isle and slides into home for an amazing play all around! On lookers clapping and cheering as they witness this remarkable event.
I’ve had to give in and let them play in the house. That’s right baseball in the house. The winters are too cold and miserable to send them out in the bitter cold to play. So we compromised with soft, very soft balls and padded bats. (Good thing too, I’ve been nailed in the face too many times with a ball.) They had to work to earn their helmets and gloves. Man can they hit, catch and throw. They’ll be the only little leaguers not using a tee in T ball. In fact at this rate they’ll be the youngest rookies rather than the oldest. The way they connect with the ball on a consistent basis and not only that but, the force and power behind the hit is just remarkable. I’m in awe.
Now that the weather is warming up we’ve been outside and still have to use soft plastic balls as they frequently bounce off the windows of not only our home but the neighbors. I took them to a local park that has some ball fields. They were in heaven. The red dirt, the green grass the pitchers mound, hello, it doesn’t get much better than this. Then a high school team arrived to practice on one of the fields and they all stood there. Gazing through the chain link, watching them practice in their uniforms. Dreaming of the day they would be.
Cameron and I surprised them and took them to a college baseball game on Saturday. Their faces lit up and they marched in with their helmets on, looking like little bobble heads dragging their bats behind them in one hand and their glove in the other. We had front row seats right behind home plate and we were ready. Except they were a little bummed that they weren’t allowed down on the field, they wanted to play too. So in between each inning Cameron would take them to an open area behind the concession stand and they’d play ball. Running back to their seats each time with all of their personal stats: Mom, Mom, I hit the ball over the fence two times, and we had to go get it…..Mom, I caught the ball dad hit!…Mom…
It’s just fun, a whole lot of fun. I love my boys and their larger than life enthusiasm.
(and that’s just baseball, I haven’t mentioned golf or any of the others)
So it’s no shock that we eat, breathe and sleep baseball around here. My three year old’s life is baseball. In fact all of their lives revolve around it. The all time favorite movie is The Rookie, runner up: Angels in the Outfield. They don’t just sit and watch The Rookie, they get up right next to the TV and mimic every move right down to the hand twitching and raised eyebrows. They have the moves the lingo, all of it down. They not only know how to throw a fast ball, a curve ball… they can recognize the pitch. My 18 month olds favorite phrase: “Hit da ball”. We can be anywhere and these guys will start up a game. Just the other day I was at the deli counter ordering some ham and there they were in baseball mode. Swinging the pretend bat over his shoulder, leans in with intense focus…taps the floor twice with the bat. While the catcher squats behind delivering the play with secret hand signals and the pitcher digging into the mound, winding up and then throwing the most perfect pitch ever thrown by man
and then he SWINGS! He runs, rounding the imaginary bases around the bread isle and slides into home for an amazing play all around! On lookers clapping and cheering as they witness this remarkable event.
I’ve had to give in and let them play in the house. That’s right baseball in the house. The winters are too cold and miserable to send them out in the bitter cold to play. So we compromised with soft, very soft balls and padded bats. (Good thing too, I’ve been nailed in the face too many times with a ball.) They had to work to earn their helmets and gloves. Man can they hit, catch and throw. They’ll be the only little leaguers not using a tee in T ball. In fact at this rate they’ll be the youngest rookies rather than the oldest. The way they connect with the ball on a consistent basis and not only that but, the force and power behind the hit is just remarkable. I’m in awe.
Now that the weather is warming up we’ve been outside and still have to use soft plastic balls as they frequently bounce off the windows of not only our home but the neighbors. I took them to a local park that has some ball fields. They were in heaven. The red dirt, the green grass the pitchers mound, hello, it doesn’t get much better than this. Then a high school team arrived to practice on one of the fields and they all stood there. Gazing through the chain link, watching them practice in their uniforms. Dreaming of the day they would be.
Cameron and I surprised them and took them to a college baseball game on Saturday. Their faces lit up and they marched in with their helmets on, looking like little bobble heads dragging their bats behind them in one hand and their glove in the other. We had front row seats right behind home plate and we were ready. Except they were a little bummed that they weren’t allowed down on the field, they wanted to play too. So in between each inning Cameron would take them to an open area behind the concession stand and they’d play ball. Running back to their seats each time with all of their personal stats: Mom, Mom, I hit the ball over the fence two times, and we had to go get it…..Mom, I caught the ball dad hit!…Mom…
It’s just fun, a whole lot of fun. I love my boys and their larger than life enthusiasm.
(and that’s just baseball, I haven’t mentioned golf or any of the others)
1 Comments:
That's just great!
Be sure to keep enthusiastic about it yourself but not to be too pushy - but I'm sure you will ;)
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