After all the rain last night, the
baseball field was mud. At the last
minute, I decided to wear hiking boots instead of sneakers and I’m glad I
did. Stepping onto the field I sank a
good two inches into the ground and a sucking noise followed each step. But most kids love mud, the dirtier the
better, so none of my players complained.
Of course, the day before Mother’s Day meant half my team had other more
pressing plans since only four kids showed up.
Four kids though, in some ways, makes for a more pleasant teeball
experience. Fewer kids on the field means
less confusion. It also meant more
action for the kids who played, especially since three of the four kids were my
four year old players – the ones who are often out hustled by the older kids. When
our team was up at bat I also felt I could take a little longer with each of the
kids to help them with their batting stance and swing. Our opponents had even fewer players than we
did - only three kids - which was also great.
With fewer kids batting, my kids didn’t have time to get bored hanging
out in the field. Three balls were hit. Three times the balls were chased. And then it was time to hit again. All teeball teams should have just a handful
of players; it really does make for a better learning environment.
When my son and I arrived, I
immediately started throwing the ball to him so he could practice catching and
throwing. I’m still at the grounder
stage, afraid to throw anything that might accidentally hit and hurt a kid. But with the infield being so muddy, as soon
as the ball hit the ground its momentum stopped as it became stuck in the
goop. This irritated my son. He acted as if I were doing it just to torment
him. If the ball did not stop exactly at
his feet, if he had to move as much as one step in any direction, he crossed
his arms and pouted. The other players,
as they showed up and joined in the warm up, were more agreeable. I’m not sure why my son was so incredibly
stubborn. It was as if his feet had
disappeared into the mud and turned into roots.
His obstinacy in practice forced everyone else to move a little more and
work a little harder.
Only one of
the six year olds who dominated the game earlier in the week showed up this
morning. In the first inning, I asked
her to play first base and explained that as soon as the ball was hit she
should run to the base, put her foot on the bag and hold out her glove. I had
hoped that in asking her to play first, she would have enough action to keep
her happy but it would also enable the other kids to have a turn to make some
plays in the field. It worked well. With her playing first, the three younger
boys had the opportunity to chase after the ball and throw it to first. Of course, none of them at this point in
their young lives have an arm strong enough to reach first, but I give them all
credit for at least making the attempt. Even
my son broke out of his obstinacy long enough to run after the ball a couple of
times. However, he refuses to release
the ball high. Instead of throwing for
distance, I sometimes get the feeling he is trying to see how deep into the
ground he can bury the ball. Always, he throws
down and the harder I try to correct his form the worse it seems to get.
Following the first inning, when I placed the
older player elsewhere in the field – in teeball the kids have to play
different positions each inning to get used to being in different places on the
field – I spoke to her about just staying in her zone. I also explained that if she heard me calling
another child’s name she should let that child get the ball since my calling
him meant he was closer. I was very
happy that she listened well and again allowed the other kids to have some fun. And since the game moved at a swifter pace and
since all the players got to make a few plays in the field, no one complained
about being bored. Yay!
In the second inning, my son asked
if he could play first. I’ve been
apprehensive about playing the younger kids at first since I don’t want them to
get hurt. However, since the request demonstrated a degree of interest and
since I want my son to be happy and enjoy the game, I granted his request. Smiling and happy, he ran to first where he
stood squarely with both feet planted on the bag until I explained to him that
the first baseman doesn’t actually stand on the base. I positioned him about two feet up and
another four feet towards second. My
concern that he might get hit by a ball he neglected to catch was ill-founded given
that none of the players could throw hard enough so that the ball would reach
him on a fly. Besides, as I already
stated, the field was mush. Once the
ball hit the ground it didn’t even roll an inch. He was quite safe playing first base.
At bat, my
son is starting to hit the ball with a little more confidence, which means the
ball isn’t simply falling off the tee and landing two feet in front of where he
was standing. But he still needs to get
used to running as soon as he makes contact. Three times today he hit the ball
and three times there was a lag before he heard my voice and started to run. Even though he still appears to run in slow
motion he always comes home with a huge grin on his face and he enthusiastically
gives me a high five each time. At his
age, he is only as fast as he believes he is and he thinks he is the Flash.
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