After two weeks of practice and a few rain delays, game day is finally here.
The sun is playing peek-a-boo behind just a few clouds in an otherwise clear and bright blue sky. An autumn breeze doesn’t lower the temperature too much, still in the high 80s, but I sit in the shade and feel comfortable. Never a big sports fan, I’m now transformed by my children’s enthusiasm.
I’m ready to see my youngest son get out there and enjoy himself.
Baseball is the great American pastime, after all, requiring skill and the kind of good hand-eye coordination I never got from drama and dance classes.
Yes, listening to the crack of the bat and kids cheering on their teammates is just about as good a gig as you can find on a Saturday afternoon.
Which is why I’m suddenly surprised.
Head Coach is screaming at his players, 9- and 10-year-old boys.
“Lazy. You’re being lazy!”
“Are you a spectator or a ballplayer?”
“Dive for the ball!"
"Can any of you catch?”
This article appears in Oct 22-28, 2009.