I don’t know about you, but I think little league baseball is one of the most painful sports to watch. Not only is it like staring at drying paint cause it takes ten zillion years for a game to finish, but it’s also agonizing to see how much pressure those little guys put on themselves when they’re up to bat. It’s all I can do not to jump out of my bleacher seat and rush over to hug their tears away (while my husband rolls his eyes at me of course).
Just this past week, I sat with the usual lump in my throat as I saw my son strike out two different times and sulk back to the dugout while trying not to cry. I then watched three other boys follow suit, all kicking dirt and fighting back tears after their not-so-successful turns at bat. It literally hurt my hurt. Maybe it’s the motherly instinct in me or maybe I’m just an old softie, but I so badly wanted to scoop ’em all up and take ’em out for ice cream. To hell with the stupid game!
However, I somehow held it together and let them all brave it out on their own. I just knew that my son would be in a rotten mood the rest of the night as he replayed the events in his mind. But much to my surprise, things turned around in the fifth and sixth innings when he made two AMAZING catches in the outfield! In fact, they were so amazing, that he had to do a double-take to make sure the ball was actually in his glove each time.
After the game, the coach even presented him with the MVP game ball for his incredible plays. His smile grew a mile wide as he accepted the many pats on the back from his teammates. Talk about turning a frown upside down! I thought I was going to burst with pride as I cheered through the tears in my eyes. It was incredible — EVERY kid should have a chance to feel like that, don’t ya think?