Striking Out/ Baseball Lessons: Part One

Chase's first uniform

When Chase expressed interest in playing baseball this spring, I was elated! 

 I love baseball for so many reasons.   I never played on a team as a kid, but I did play in the neighborhood, sandlot style. And I found every opportunity to go cheer on my friends and boys I babysat who were playing at the ball park.  I was a huge Atlanta Braves fan in my heyday.  

Not just because of the boys, but

many memories of the ball park are still sweet to me. 

The sights, the sounds, the food, the heat.

Going back to Chaser, I was really excited to form new even better memories with him playing ball!  He played soccer in the fall and did great and had fun, but since my heart lived in baseball, I couldn't wait!  This would be his first year.  

At his first practice, I'll admit, we anxiously realized we were already behind the game.  Chase was getting pretty good at catch, but with very little experience, not even t-ball, I was nervous wondering how he would do compared to the other boys.  And let me tell you, they were good.  

Really good 

for a bunch of 7 year olds.  

As Chase tried batting, he couldn't hit the ball. Not even once. His coaches were so awesome, but I could see his little heart crushing with each strike.  Ugh!  Guilt set in. What was I thinking? I had set him up for failure.  Why hadn't we practiced more?  

With Chase's need for smooth transitions to new things, this wasn't going well. Chase is a sharp kid.  He could see the difference in his baseball skills and the other boys.  I just felt so bad.  Heartbroken. Like a terrible mom.  

The overwhelming situation took its toll and finally Chase was laying on the ground- done for the day.  We left practice early.  We took our humble pie with extra helpings of defeat and disappointment. :(

Chase made it very clear on the way home that he did not want to play baseball, 

at all!  

Wade and I encouraged and offered more practice,

but forcing Chase to suck it up and to not quit would be counterproductive.

Because of his sensory sensitivities, we can't push too hard.

His team's first game was two days later and I offered to take him to go watch his team play and support his friends- just for fun.  He gave me a flat refusal and I took it.  

Oh well.

That was that.

Gone were my visions of him in his cute little uniform and ball cap, sitting in the dugout with his buddies and running through the outfield, getting still shots of him swinging the bat, catching a fly ball, and especially cheering for him as he made his first home run.

  It's only little league, but it was still hard to say goodbye to a chapter that never even started.  

However, it was time to let it go and just move on.  I'm big enough to recognize it was for him all along, not for me.

So, that was THE END of the story,

or so I thought...

Part two

Part three