From the time I realized I wanted kids, I imagined what they would be like. I know what I wanted, of course. The same thing we all want: a happy, healthy, well-rounded, smart, good at everything, liked by everyone, successful in life offspring. Barring all that, which pretty much takes a small miracle, we secretly pick. Part of my secret wish for my firstborn was that he be a good athlete. It does, after all, run in the family, so it wasn't like that particular wish wasn't do-able. I just had no idea how it could come around to bite me in the butt.
We've tried several sports. Gymnastics, swimming, cross country, baseball... If he wants to give it a shot, we're willing. He was good at them all. He's small, fast and strong. He runs a mile in 6:22 (freakish, I know. I don't think I can ride my bike that fast). But baseball... he fell in love with baseball. I didn't start him until he was 6, because I thought he might be bored. Let's face it, America's pastime isn't necessarily the most exciting or fast paced game in the world. And since baseball runs in the DNA, I wanted him to like it. So, we waited. He had a really cool T-Ball Coach that he loved. He was one of the first to be able to hit a coach-pitched ball. Later that fall, he started playing Machine Pitch. Bigger kids, faster balls, more rules. He loved it. He picked less daisies in the outfield. The next Spring, he played as a 7-year-old, one of the younger kids at the Machine Pitch level. He learned to catch. He was really good at it. He was the only one that didn't shy away from the ball coming at him at 35mph. We took him to his first Washington Nationals game. We stayed until the bitter end, by his choice. He declared Bryce Harper to be his favorite player, and the Nats his favorite team. He decided he would play for them when he got older.
Last year, we had to make our first difficult athletic decision for him. Move him up to the next level (Kid Pitch Minors), or keep him in Machine for one more season? The average age progression for these kids is as follows: T-Ball, 4-7; Machine Pitch, 8-9; Minors, 9-11; Majors, 11-12. He was 7 playing Machine. Should we move him up to Minors at 8, or leave him down another year? Based on Coach feedback (and Connor's begging), we moved him up. I was nervous about him playing with older, bigger boys, but it turns out it was for nothing (mostly). He rose to the occasion and did a fantastic job. His team even made it to the City Championships (which they lost), and he played 2nd base most of the way. I just won't tell you about some of the new... ah... interesting terminology he picked up while sharing a dugout with 11 year olds.
By the end of that 2013 season, my son had really hit his stride. He did a couple of camps over the summer, practiced all the time, took private lessons, hit the batting cages, clinics, you name it. He started switch hitting. Well. Like, line drives and grounders 75-80% of the time off a 40mph machine well. He's 9! I swear, if you asked the child if he would rather breathe or play ball, he'd pick baseball every time. My Dad and my husband bought him some practice equipment for the yard. He didn't care if there was snow on the ground, he wanted to play. And it sure showed at his Spring Evaluations last week. Turns out he did so well that all the Coaches were - still are - talking about him. Even though we had expressed that we were leaning toward keeping him in Minors this season, talk of moving him up surfaced. Once he got wind of it, the begging started again. "Pleeeeeaaaasssseeee let me play Majors! PLEASE?"
Did I mention that there are 12-year-old boys in Majors? That's Middle School. That's hormones. That's some kids that are bigger than my husband. Seriously.
But... he's a really good ball player.
But... he's my baby.
When did "I hope my son is a good athlete" turn into a bunch of grown-ups vying to have him on their team? Seriously, apparently one of the Coaches offered up two other players of he could get my kid on his team. Makes a Mama proud. And makes a decision that should be easy that much harder.
I have to balance challenging him vs. overwhelming him. Keeping him excited about the game vs. boring the crap out of him. Play more vs. ride the bench more. Play with boys his own age vs. older boys. The list goes on.
Where's my kid manual??? You know, the one with the answers to all the tough stuff??
So, yeah... having an excellent athlete isn't all cheering and proud Mama moments. It's stressful and nerve-wracking, too. And let's not even talk about expensive. And you never get to win the Mother of the Year Award in years where you disappoint your own kid. Because he's playing Minors again...
