The Blue Mitts were Wyatt, Brennan, Bennett, Benton, Cash, John, Cooper, Harrison, Luke and J.P. and I absolutely loved coaching each and every one of them.
The highlight of my weeks this fall has been leaving work early on Friday, meeting my boys at Harpeth Hills Church of Christ and playing baseball with them as the sun sank lower and lower into the early evening sky. First, we stretched in left field, then I raced the boys to the fence in right field and back (At practice Friday, Wyatt "tied" me and was ecstatic). Next, we took batting practice, as I sat on one knee close to home plate and pitched ball after ball to the boys. Last, the boys ran the bases, twice. In the background, throughout practice, parents watched and talked quietly and the boys' siblings laughed and played together.
When practice ended, J.P., his grandpa and I usually stayed behind so J.P. could hit another bucket of balls. Often times, his teammate, Benton - a serious, quiet boy who is the most talented athlete on the team - stayed for extra hitting, too. I especially cherished those times, pitching balls to J.P. and just spending quality time with him at the end of a busy work week.
Games were Saturday afternoons at Warner Park (field # 2), usually at 1 p.m. Normally, each team batted through their order two times, then we called it a day. Today, in the final game of the fall season, each team batted three times, which was nice. J.P. batted last, which he loved, because he got to the run the bases when he hit the ball.
For me, there was something special abut coaching these boys. I can't put my finger on it, but I think it has to do with their age, 5-6 years old. They're all so innocent, not a care in the world at practice or games. Truthfully, they seemed to enjoy practicing and playing baseball, but their favorite part was chasing each other and playing "diaper tag" afterwards.
Also, because it was "coach pitch," it's so easy to make a real connection with the boys when I'm pitching to them. As each boy steps into the batter's box, I'm so focused on that boy and he on me. I want so badly to give each one a good pitch (or pitches) to hit and for him to get a good hit. As I would kneel on one knee 10 or 15 feet away from home plate, each boy stared out at me wide eyed and expectantly, a look of complete trust on his face.
I can't help but laugh, thinking of my first practice at Sevier Park, on a makeshift baseball field in the grass. I was more than a little apprehensive, as Jim White (J.P's grandpa) and unloaded the gear from my truck before practice. Thankfully, I found my groove pretty quickly, and by the second or third practice we were off to the races. I started out wondering if I could coach and I ended up realizing not only was I a pretty good baseball coach, I enjoyed it tremendously, as well.
I'm smiling as I sit at Bongo Java, Sleeping Joe beside me, thinking about the fall season, from beginning to end.
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