I'm not sure that JP is as sentimental as his old man but I think he realizes he might be playing out the string on his baseball career in these last few games. He wants to run in college and, of course, baseball and track are spring sports. The last two years, junior varsity baseball has been his focus and he's gone to track practice or run in meets when there wasn't conflict with baseball. When baseball season ended last year, he joined the varsity track team full time. That's the plan this spring, as well.
My guess, though, and it's only a guess, is that next year will be different. I think track probably will be his focus. Since baseball is not a part-time sport in any sense of the term, particularly at the varsity level, he might hang up his cleats when this season ends in a couple of weeks.
Originally, JP was going to play summer baseball again with Harris Baseball Club, as he has the past couple of summers. He decided not to play this summer, though, because playing in out of town tournaments for seven out of eight weeks in June and July would have meant he couldn't run at least three days a week for most of the summer. He wants to put all of his efforts into getting ready for the cross country season in the fall, which means running almost every day this summer. I supported his decision, although telling Brian Harris - whom JP loves and respects - was difficult.
As always, JP sets his goals and is laser focused and disciplined in trying to reach them. I get it. It's unusual, I think, for a 17 year old to be as driven as he is but that's the way he's always been. Athletically and academically. I'm very proud of him, of course, many reasons, not the least of which is his maturity, level headedness, and drive to be the best at whatever he is doing.
Sill, it's so hard for me to envision a life in which JP is not playing baseball. Since he was four years old, baseball has been such a huge part of his life and mine, as well. The rational part of my brain knew the end was coming at some point, possibly soon, but it still hurts. Why? Probably because it marks a passage of time in our lives. For him, for me. From youth to young adulthood. From a young, active father with so much time ahead to spend with JP- coaching baseball - to older, spectator father, watching more and doing less.
Like yesterday, I remember JP and I walking outside our old house on Elliott Avenue after dinner and throwing the baseball in the gloaming on the strip of grass at Mt. Gilead Baptist Church across the street. That's where JP learned to throw and catch, as much as anywhere else. The joy I felt - a joy I never new I would be blessed to feel - in the simple act of throwing the baseball with my son. It was as close to heaven, for me, as there is on earth.
On those languid spring and summer evenings, playing catch with JP until it got too dark to see, time stretched endlessly out in front of me as far as I could see. JP would be young forever. I would be a young dad forever. For me, it was a perfect time in my life. Simplicity. Innocence. Timeless because all we had was time.
It's different now. So different. We don't live at Elliott Avenue. Last summer, the new owner cut down the beautiful 80-year old maple tree in the front yard. Mt. Gilead Baptist Church is gone, replaced by Avenue Church, populated by a bunch of millennial and generation Z churchgoers. I can't think of the last time JP and I have thrown a baseball together because his has a cannon for an arm and my right shoulder is shot. He's driving. My back hurts and, for now, I can't run.
And now, his baseball career likely is drawing to a close.
Like so much of the time as a father these days, I find myself asking, "How did I get here?" It's like I've been on a rocket ship the past decade or so, enjoying the ride, and suddenly we've reached our final destination and it's time to get disembark. Older than when I started the trip and saddened by the realization that I can't go back from whence I came.
Here's the thing. Life is a one way ticket. You get on the ride. You get off the ride. That's it. I have to remind myself, though, that the joy is in the journey.
This afternoon, I'm going to leave work early and drive to Clarksville to watch JP play baseball. I'm going to enjoy every minute of it, too.
This life. This beautiful, singular life.
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