Little slugger

Nick played his first game of coach-pitch baseball tonight. I couldn’t be more proud. He listened to his coaches. He kept his eyes on the ball (not on the kid next to him). And he hit the ball. Hard. His first hit was a good hit. His second hit touched the fence before dropping to the ground. His third hit hopped once before touching the fence. Not bad kid, not bad at all.

Just last week at practice he had really struggled with hitting. He swung and missed a lot before finally connecting with the ball. Mike took him out to practice once or twice. I don’t know if that helped, if he is just finally getting the feel for hitting or if it was dumb luck. Whatever it was it gave him the confidence he needed so badly. And silly me, at dinner, as a joke, I had promised him $5 if he hit the ball out of the park. He remembered. He’s got his eyes set on that for next week. There is a small part of me concerned that I may have to pay up. There is another part of me that hopes I do. I could get used to watching baseball all summer long. I’d prefer something indoors with air conditioning, but if I have to be outside this isn’t so bad.

Nick also learned a valuable baseball lesson tonight. After one of his hits he slid into second base. He said he had to, but I don’t really remember if the ball was about to beat him or not. Then, after the kids finished playing they all ran the bases and he kind of slid into home plate (he’s seen the coaches’ son do it and thought it looked fun). Well, sliding might be. The aftermath isn’t. I thought he’d seen enough of Jamie’s burns to know that. Evidently not. As he limped out of the shower he said “I learned a good lesson tonight, a very painful lesson.” You sure did kid.