Little League Coaching
Totally Off Topic & Sappy
I touched on my Little League coaching in a longer this and that blog (Read That Blog Here). I don’t often write about my personal life and this is why. As I wrote, things just came out. Eventually the piece became way too long and off-topic for a general porn/sports/politics blog. So here it is. You have been warned though. This is off-topic and totally sappy.
Busy Life: One of the reasons I have been so long between blog entries is that things have really changed in my “real life” schedule-wise. My oldest son started Little League (Teeball) and I am the assistant coach for his team. It takes up close to ten hours a week between practices, meetings, games and other little things they keep throwing at us. (Like three hours today manning the snack bar. Who was the genius who put me in charge of the Snickers and Diet Coke?) Those of you who know me know how really ‘well’ I deal with changes to my schedule. (And yes I am using single quotes the way they were intended.) It usually takes a good month for me to find my bearings when things get changed up on me. This change has been huge and altered my work schedule in a big way.
But you know what? I freaking love it. Coaching has been so much more fun and rewarding than I ever could have imagined. My son is loving it. He has been waiting to play baseball since he was two and is having the best time. Seeing him smile when he puts on his uniform or hearing him talk non-stop all the way home about what happened on the field has truly recharged me. His joy reminds me that all the time I spend is worth it, that working late, sometimes struggling to keep things going, is all just part of the big picture.
Last weekend when I was out picking up lunch he sat down with my wife and asked her questions about the other dads. Why didn’t they help coach? Why did his daddy get to be on the field during games while the other dads just watched? She explained that the other dads had work schedules that didn’t allow them to help and that I was very lucky to be able to do it. He ended the conversation as he so often does, but standing up with a big smile on his face and leaving the room with words hanging in the air that have more meaning that he could ever know. “I’m lucky and so happy my daddy is my coach.” I will probably live off those words for a very long.
Coaching has also reminded me of my own limited Little League experience. I wasn’t all that interested in baseball as a kid. I skipped tee ball and played only one year of baseball when I was about 10. I was painfully behind the other kids who had been playing for a long time already and I wasn’t exactly a great athlete. (I know shocking right?) I wasn’t the worst player on my team, but I was in the bottom three to be sure. In my defense I might have been better had I been able to see the ball. Things got much better the second half of the season when I actually worse my glasses during practices and games. Apparently it didn’t dawn on me that if I couldn’t see the chalkboard without them, I might not be able to see the baseball either. It was fun for me to play and it was a good experience, but I chose not to do it again. I just wasn’t very good and looking back I should have tried harder, but I don’t regret it. What I remember most about Little League though was my dad and his involvement. At the time he was a cop and working a lot of overnight shifts. There were days when I barely saw him because he was gone when I went to school, asleep when I got home and awake just long enough to eat dinner with us and put us to bed. It was a tough schedule for him and he had very little free time. My dad volunteered as an assistant coach though and I remember what that meant to me. He couldn’t be at every practice or even every game because of work, but he tried. I distinctly remember the feeling I got when I was on the field (I was allowed to walk to the school for practice. Can you imagine?) and he would drive up. Just seeing his car gave me such a great feeling. I don’t think I understood it then, but now I know that I was happy in part because I knew on some level how much he was sacrificing. I was important enough to race home from work for. He was coming to help my team not because I was any good, but because he loved me. The other assistant coaches all had sons who were all-stars. They drove their sons hard and it made sense to me that they would want to be there. It didn’t make as much sense to me as a kid for my father to be there because I sucked. Why would dad want to watch me, let alone spend two hours coaching when he had just worked 12 hours? I wanted so badly to make him proud on the field, but I never did. At least that’s how my mind saw it back then.
Looking at things now I get it. I know that it didn’t matter to him how well or poorly I played. It wasn’t a home run or a great catch that he was there to see. I’m sure that those things would have thrilled him to no end, but they were not required to make him proud of me. I know this not because my son sucks. He’s actually a pretty damn good ball player and already a whole lot better than I ever was. I understand the feeling my father must have had driving from work and going to the field instead of to bed where I’m sure his body wanted to be. I know now why he spent those extra hours with me. I know the feeling he must have had when I got a hit or smiled on the field because I was having fun. Most of all I understand why he made so many sacrifices. He didn’t do it so that I would feel and important. He did because I was loved and important. It’s funny how life can offer you perspective when you let it.
I don’t think I ever thanked him as a kid for coaching my team, just like I didn’t thank him for a few million other things he did for me. But I sure thanked him last week when he came to watch my son’s game. I thanked him for loving me enough to spend extra time with me when so many other fathers couldn’t or just wouldn’t make the time. I thanked him for accepting my limitations as player and never making me feel like that affected his love for me one way or another. I thanked him most of all for teaching me how to be the sort of father who can’t wait for his son to finish school every day so I can put work aside and help with homework, read a book, play some ball or just be with him.
