As a child of a man who once tried out for the Pirates, it was inevitable.
My first recollection of baseball is hearing We Are Family by Sister Sledge, when our Buccos were unstoppable for the final time...when they won the World Series back in 1979. Now I don't remember any games or plays. (I was all of 5 years old), but I do remember the excitement and the names of the players. John Candelaria, Ed Ott, Kent Tekulve, Manny Sanguillen and who can forget Willie Stargell? These guys were in my brother's baseball card collection and in some ways actually seemed like family. The way people page through old photo albums of loved ones from days of yore, we would look through stacks of Topps baseball cards.
I'm embarrassed to say that I recognize more names from the 1979 team than from today's current Pirates roster. But that is partially because I've got a new team I've been following -the EA Wildcats.
Yes, my 7 year old is playing baseball for the third year in a row, but something happened this season to make this go around a little bit different. I have been a reluctant fan all my life because I was kinda forced into the baseball scene. I had to go to my younger brother's games and while I really enjoyed the Happy Meals after a win, (one of his teams was sponsored by McDonalds) I wasn't so much into the game. I liked when he got a hit and made it on base but the rest was bore -ing.
My oldest son tried baseball for a season and that was just painful. He ended up hating it, but because he had made a commitment we made him finish it out. Our favorite memory was when he played catcher and hid from the ball. I guess if you put it in perspective - it is scary to have a fast object coming at your face and your job is to stop it and you are all of 3 ft. 10 inches tall.
While my three children are talented in their own ways, my youngest is Mr. Sporty. He is in constant motion and has not met a sport he doesn't like. From hockey to football to frisbee, he can do it all. Prior to this year, he played baseball, but I don't remember being that into the games. The ball was still being hit off of a tee and my son was still a little immature and liked playing in the dirt and had separation issues, so the games were a bit of a hassle. But this year the games were good.
Don't get me wrong. The season started slow, but with each game I started to see the kids' potential. A good play here, a good hit there, glimmers of hope kept coming and the kids were showing they were understanding the game. By the end of the season, the team had really gelled.
Last year, I would do anything to get out of a game. This year, I wouldn't miss a game for anything and I never regretted juggling my schedule to make that happen. (Except that one game when it was really cold early in April and I ran out of hot tea. It was a night game and I was tired and cranky.)
I have tried to pin down what made this season so special. Was it because the kids are getting older and understand what they are supposed to be doing? Was it because the kids are older and want to be better? Was the coaching staff a cohesive unit that worked well together thus were able to get the kids to do better?
I'm thinking it was a combination of all three. But I do have to hand it to our coaches. These guys work hard and truly care about teaching these kids the fundamentals of baseball. They work all day at their regular job and then a couple days a week have to report to a game or practice. There were plenty of weekend games too, but they always seemed to enjoy what they were doing and took their role seriously.
I admire people who coach because, it is not easy. It is time away from family, dealing with parents and sometimes watching kids make a mistake after you have told them 100 times not to watch the ball when they get a hit, not to slow down when they are running to first base and not to swing at bad pitches. I'm sure there are frustrating times when these guys asked themselves why they still do it, but then there are times when a kid makes a good catch, gets their first in the park home run or slides safely into second. Yes, those are good days.
Last Saturday, my son's team played in a tournament. They got clobbered the first game but the second was full of excitement and just plain good baseball. There was even a controversial call at second when a kid forgot to call time out when he tried to stand after sliding into the base. He was tagged out and I watched as the coaches tried to argue their case. The umpire made a good call but was it fair in game filled with 7 and 8 year olds? Yes, it was frustrating and that call in the end may have cost us the game (we lost by 1 run) but the staff used the play as a teaching tool and celebrated the kids performance in what was probably the best game of the season.
I am starting to love baseball not because I have to or because it is in my DNA, but because I love watching kids get it. I love when a little guy throws the ball to first with only a second to spare to get that out. I love watching kids run with all they've got to get to make it safely to first base. Who knows, the next Tim Foli or Omar Moreno may be on deck. Sister Sledge better be working on a sequel.
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