Ok, I consider myself a pretty competitive person (I am sure some of you can concur). So it is ironic that having my kids participate in organized sports is not my most favorite thing to do, especially baseball. Now don't get me wrong I understand the benefits of a team game and trying hard in something yada yada. And I will always encourage and support my children in anything they want to try. So hence my experience with the cult I call baseball begins and my inner thoughts that I do NOT say out loud:
So my youngest son signs up for coach pitch league this year after a fun year at t-ball last summer.
I go dutifully to the parent meeting to meet with other parents and the coach. As we sit and discuss important items she mentions practices before the season starts-probably two a week. Ummmmm practice-well yeah didn't have those in T-ball so why start now-it is all about fun right?
We move on to the important stuff-Uniforms-this is where the frothing parents show what it is all about-How about we get their names on the back of their hat? It is only 5 or 10 bucks. Oh yeah, great idea for a hat worn 9 times-at least at my house I don't even know where the hat from last year went. AND no shorts this year- we are in the big league-need baseball pants. AND some mom speaks up and asks "sneakers or cleets?" cleets?? Really-nine games?? I already know Q's big attaction with cleets will be the cool design they make in the sand.
I look around the room, parents are huddled-faces animated-visions of their kid being the big player on the mound. Ex Jock Dads (Carey tell Jaime I am truly sorry for using that word) walking around in jerseys and with their ex glory days swagger.
I am taking it all in....
And the nonconformist in me (which you all know is just as strong as the competitive side) is laughing and smirking and saying ok leave now before they brainwash you. Go back to t-ball where getting the treat tricket at the end of the game was the only goal. I go home pondering. I tell Q man that baseball is starting soon and the coach wants us to practice at home. I am waiting for the "oh man" or "no way" or "I don't think I want to play". He shrugs says ok. I am thinking he may just bow out. Nope
Fast forward to next evening it is spitting snow, cold, gray and windy and my youngest says "Hey mom, lets go practice, remember my coach said". So end of the story-I, being the good conformist get bundled up-stocking hat, winter gloves coat and so does said son who hates the cold. We go out, we practice, he loves it and YES I love it.
Welcome me to the cult of baseball!
3 comments:
oh,it is only the beginning. you wait til games are out of town and you have to stay in hotels. hahaha.
and in my experience, it isn't the ex-jock dads who are the problems. it is the WISH I WOULD HAVE BEEN A JOCK dads who live vicariously through their kids...they are a piece of work.
Ahh, thank you for setting me straight, forgot about the wanna be ones. I will take my comment back:) Out of town games-good grief-ok if the hotel has a hot tub I'm there!
WELCOME!!! It's all insane, Cher. Every blasted minute of it. Every parent (dad) on the team thinks THEIR kid is going to make it to the majors (like only 3% of little leaguers even play in high school) and treat each play like it is the END OF THE FREAKING WORLD.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, don't get me started. I get so pissed at the coaches and parents that one mom suggested anti-anxiety meds for me last week.
I fully concur with my dad's belief that parents shouldn't be allowed to go to the games.
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