Thursday, September 27, 2018

The Dawg

(Sitting at Barista Parlor, early, before a client meeting at Portland Brew, listening the Jason Isbel's "If We Were Vampires" spinning on a turntable).  

I worry sometimes - actually, a lot of the time - that I don't have enough photos of Joe, that I haven't blogged enough about Joe, that I don't get enough one-on-one time with Joe, that Joe never got to enjoy the experience of being our only child, like J.P. did for almost four years before Joe was born.  

And, now, with both boys at the same school - the convenience of which cannot be overstated - I don't get "Joe Time" in the mornings.  For the last couple of years, Joe and I had 45 minutes to an hour, alone, every day before I took him to school. 

He's the second child, after all.  That's just the way it is.  I do think, though, being the first child or the second child really does inform your personality to a certain extent.  Certainly, it's not the only factor, but it's an important one, it seems.

Switching gears, I moved Joe's baseball team, the Junior Dodgers, up early from the Wookie League (4, 5 and 6 years old) to the Rookie League (7 and 8 year olds) for fall baseball.  They're all 6 year olds and I knew they would struggle hitting off the machine rather than me pitching to them.  I knew that because we did the same thing with J.P.'s group, the Dodgers, and I can vividly remember them struggling in the beginning of the fall season.  I also remember them picking it up, hitting well in the second half of the fall, and winning some games.  

The Junior Dodgers started the season 0-3.  The first game, the hitting was abysmal.  Joe had 1 of 2 hits.  It's worth pointing out here that a "hit" in the Rookie League - at least the way I score it - can be a ball that is hit through the infield (a rarity) or a ground ball that the batter legitimately beat out for an infield hit.  There aren't many 6 year old sluggers who can hit line drives into the outfield off the machine.

In games 2 and 3, the boys' hitting improved, as I knew it would.  They had begun to time the pitches and get the bat on the ball.  

Last Saturday, we played a buddy of mine's team (Andy Corts).  His boys were a little older than ours but no too skilled.  

To my delight, our boys really got the bats on track, from the top of the lineup to the bottom.  Remember, of course, that there is no real lineup on my teams at this age.  We bat the boys by their uniform numbers, lowest to highest one game, then highest to lowest the next game.  It makes for easier "dugout management," by far.  My bench coach appreciates it, I know.

Somehow, I've ended up running the machine for the Junior Dodgers.  Where have you gone, Dan "the Professor" Ayres?  It's good for a control freak like me but I die a little each time I strike a kid out and have to remind him to go back to the dugout as he stares out at me and that damn machine.  

Again, Saturday was different.  Two of my least skilled players, Noah and James, had legitimate hits their first time up.  I was thrilled!  Noah and his dad have worked their asses off since he first played for me last fall and had probably never held a bat in his hand.  He's improved tremendously.  James' father played baseball in college James doesn't appear to have touched a baseball before this fall.  To see him hit the ball down the third base line and scamper to first base, smiling, was tremendous.

Joe?  He's one of the youngest boys on the team, I think, but one of the most advanced in terms of actual baseball skills and hand-eye coordination.  Not the fastest and not the most athletic, by any means, but he has the strongest and certainly, the most accurate, throwing arm on the team.  Like his brother at that age, too, he is intense and understands the game.  

Joe wast the only player with two hits on Saturday.  He scored two of our five runs.  He also threw a kid out at first base.  The Junior Dodgers won, 5-0.  A shutout.  They celebrated like, well, 6 year olds as we ran into right field - as I've done so many times after so many baseball games - with J.P.'s Dodgers - for a brief post-game celebration.  It was cool.

Joe, or Joe "Dawg" Newman, as he's know by all on the baseball field.  Or, to me, just "Dawg."  

I'm proud of him.  


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