exmediahack
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Aug 27, 2007
- Messages
- 11,200
A couple months back, I asked - with true curiosity - on here about an 8-year-old's readiness to join a feeder baseball team.
After weeks of talks with my wife and our son, we agreed to "go for it", largely because of his attitude, his grades and his maturity level for that age. We (and he) wanted to see if he could hang with the top level in our city.
Tonight, after 3 weeks of games, he turned on one, Thome-style, opposite field to LCF, over the wall. Probably 160-170 feet, I guess, I dunno. Seeing his own "shock" over hitting it that far was something I'll never forget.
Each team was short one player so I volunteered to catch for both teams. After it cleared the fence, I'm even somewhat pleased with myself for stepping off the field so he (and his overjoyed and ready-to-pounce-on-him at home plate) teammates could soak it in.
Of course, between third and home, he realized it was too late to try and orchestrate the "Prince Fielder" as the bowling ball/Brewer teammates as the bowling pins celebration he prefers.
"Maybe next time," I suggested in the car before amending that, "just kidding."
I had $2.50 in my pocket so I drove him to Wendy's for a pair of First Home Run Frostys - chocolate for him, vanilla for his long-suffering little sister.
My son just went to sleep in his uniform because he doesn't "want to lose the feeling".
An evening I hope he never forgets and a day I hope all of us parents get to experience if we have little kids playing sports.
Alright.
Done bragging.
Promise.
After weeks of talks with my wife and our son, we agreed to "go for it", largely because of his attitude, his grades and his maturity level for that age. We (and he) wanted to see if he could hang with the top level in our city.
Tonight, after 3 weeks of games, he turned on one, Thome-style, opposite field to LCF, over the wall. Probably 160-170 feet, I guess, I dunno. Seeing his own "shock" over hitting it that far was something I'll never forget.
Each team was short one player so I volunteered to catch for both teams. After it cleared the fence, I'm even somewhat pleased with myself for stepping off the field so he (and his overjoyed and ready-to-pounce-on-him at home plate) teammates could soak it in.
Of course, between third and home, he realized it was too late to try and orchestrate the "Prince Fielder" as the bowling ball/Brewer teammates as the bowling pins celebration he prefers.
"Maybe next time," I suggested in the car before amending that, "just kidding."
I had $2.50 in my pocket so I drove him to Wendy's for a pair of First Home Run Frostys - chocolate for him, vanilla for his long-suffering little sister.
My son just went to sleep in his uniform because he doesn't "want to lose the feeling".
An evening I hope he never forgets and a day I hope all of us parents get to experience if we have little kids playing sports.
Alright.
Done bragging.
Promise.