When he was five, he wanted to give soccer a try. We did that for one season, but that wasn’t his game. He had his eye on the sport that has often been called “The Great American pastime”, Baseball.
The next thing I knew, our life was spent running between the practice fields, the baseball fields and the tournament fields. My life was full of little boys that smelled mostly like wet dogs and dirt! How wonderful! Who knew there would come a time would I would miss that? All along, I did. I just didn’t know how much.
There was something about watching that little guy give his all to every practice and every game that made his mom’s heart soar. From T-Ball to High school baseball, I went to every baseball practice and every baseball game.
PICKING FLOWERS IN THE FIELD
Those little league days were the absolute best. Some of the boys in the outfield picked flowers, some looked at the sky and others seemed to know exactly what was happening. Some might still run in the opposite direction when it was their turn at bat. There is nothing quite like a belly laugh with tears in your eyes as you watch with delight while those little ones learn the rules of the game.
Then there were the out of control parents who…..well, lets just leave them sitting on the bench for now.
As the boys began to grow, their skills improved. They became much more able to control their swings, their throws and their catches. They were becoming young men. The game was beginning to change, there was more concentration, fewer mistakes and the belly laughs often turned to knots of suspense as you watched your favorite young man round the bases.
The next thing I knew, my boy was taller than me. His favorite girls looked a little more like cheerleaders and high school girls and a little less like me. Once in awhile I would catch a glimpse of that nearly grown man, glancing over to see if I was still there and I knew in an instant that he was still happy to know his mom was there.
As I sit here this evening, I think about the days and years that have flown by since I last saw my little boy play baseball.
One day you wake up and they are grown. Tonight, I reminisce about my little boy and the Little League Memories. He’s no longer a little boy, he is now a grown man of 29 and serving his country overseas. I close my eyes and see him in my mind. It is with great pride and great honor to hold that man in my heart.
I know when that little boy that lives inside of him glances over to see, he will still be happy to know his mom is still here rooting for him. Are your kids enjoying a sport they love ?