The Return of Coach Phil

For me, Joe's baseball season has been a tough one.  After scrambling to find a place for Joe and several of my original Junior Dodgers, we landed with the Nationals.  I could have indirectly forced my way on to the field since I was bringing five boys to the team, but the Nationals were Troy's team and he already had a pretty tight group of three coaches.  The upshot is that for all of Joe's games this spring, I have found myself on the outside looking in, watching from my camping chair behind the backstop, walking over to the dugout to offer occasional tips to Joe and his teammates. 

It's been different, for sure, to watch Joe play baseball at the age of 11 and not be coaching him on the field during practices and games.  It's been even harder to watch our players make the same mistakes game after game, fielding and base running.  The mistakes I see are ones I would have corrected at practice but this team doesn't practice for reasons I can't begin to understand.  At age 11, I had the Dodgers practicing twice a week, which is when we really started to see the boys improve as baseball players.

Tuesday night, between games of a doubleheader in Grassland, I walked out on to left field - in my shirt and tie - where the coaches were addressing the players.  I stood there until Troy looked at me and asked if I had anything to add.  

"Actually, I do," I said.  Then, for about five minutes, I reminded the boys that baseball was supposed to be fun.  "It's not a job and it's not work," I told them.  

I had noticed they were pressing more and more as the season went along.  They just weren't having fun.  A couple of parents had made the same observations to me, as well.  Because the parents of my five Junior Dodgers had trusted me when I brought the boys to this team, I felt a sense of responsibility to do something to improve their baseball experience this spring.

"Do you know what we, as parents, like to see when we're watching you boys play baseball?"  I asked.  "Not winning, although that's pretty cool.  We like to see all of you smiling, laughing, and having fun." 

I implored them to play the next game for their teammates, to support each other, and above all, to have fun playing baseball.  That was the gyst of my message.  

So, what happened against the Cutters?  

The boys got an early lead, lost it, got another one, and almost lost it before winning 18-17.  It was a top 5 baseball game to watch or coach, for me, all time.  I'll write more about it later because it had a little bit of everything.  

But that's not what I'm here to write about.  Not this morning. 

I'm here to write about the return of Coach Phil, last night, on field #4 at Warner Park.  The Nationals vs. the Reds, well coached by my friend and former softball opponent from the West Park 3A Civil League days, Pat.  Great guy.  Great coach.

A few months ago, Jude bought tickets for us to hear Tom Hanks interviewed by Ann Patchett at MBA.  It was a big deal and I was very excited to go.  As I was driving home Thursday afternoon, however, and trying to arrange transportation to and from the game for Joe, I learned all of Joe's coaches were out for the game and volunteers were needed to coach.  It took me all of 30 seconds to decide cancel my plans to see Tom Hanks so I could coach Joe and his teammates.

We arrived at Warner Park about 45 minutes before game time.  One of the other dads was in the cage, throwing batting practice, so I took some of the rest of the boys behind the batting cages to warm up.  Immediately, I made a slight adjustment to Emmett's throwing mechanics, and complimented him on the whip-like arm motion he has when he throws.  

Emmett is our smallest player but has a surprisingly good arm and I wanted to make sure he knew I believed he had real talent as a pitcher.  He grinned as we talked but I could see him gain confidence.  Emmett needed to be noticed, to be seen, by a coach.  Instinctively, I knew that.  Knowing each boy and how to reach him - along with giving each boy what he needs to succeed - that's what coaching is all about, I think.

As the boys finished hitting in the cage, I lined them up to play "giant pepper," a game I invented with JP's Dodgers several years ago.  It's traditional pepper - where the boys are in a line and one throws the ball to me, after which I hit a grounder or line drive to another one.  He fields the ball and throws it to me again.  The twist in my game is that if a boys bobbles the ball or makes a bad throw, he's out.  The last boy standing wins.  It's competitive, which the boys love.  Also, I keep up a running banter as we play, which the boys also love.  It's were a lot of the Dodgers earned their nicknames.  The Big Cat (Wes), the Mongoos (JK), the Helpless Gazelle (Aidan), etc.

When the game before us on field #4 finished, our boys walked over to the third base dugout, hung up their gear, and began to get ready to play.  I took them out in left field, lined them up single file, and hit grounders to them in a drill I used with the Dodgers for many years.  Rather than Chris and Randy hitting ground balls to the boys in two groups, it was me with one group.  Again, like the old days.

I started Eli - the most talented player on the team - at pitcher but planned on keeping a close eye on him because he had pitched an inning Tuesday night to close the game.  Eli is a quiet kid that I've taken a real interest in this season, as much as I can with not being not he field as a coach.  He loves baseball and his dad is not a sports guy, so I've tried to give him some guidance.  I slightly adjusted his batting stance after throwing batting practice before a game and he began pulling the ball and hitting with power.  He's got real talent and natural ability.  

Eli tends to overthrow, so I had been encouraging him to throw 80%, especially, against the bottom half of any team's lineup.  He gave us a couple of good innings, then I got him out of the game.  I did the same things with Emmett, who pitched well.  I got one good inning out of him - which was enough - because he pitched three innings or so on Tuesday.  Plus, Emmett pitched well in the inning and I wanted him to leave the game with confidence, which is critical for any pitcher.  

Many times over the years, I've pulled a pitcher who might have a little bit left I the tank - Porter, Cyrus, Benton - when they've finished a good inning.  It's a confidence thing.  Why run a pitcher back out there and have to pull him when he loses his control as he's tiring or starts getting hit, when I can pull him after having finished a solid inning or two?  That way, he's confident for his next outing, too.  It's a no brainer.

Joe pitched a couple of innings, too, and he pitched well.  Much better than he has so far this season.  Getter control and decent velocity.  He had an epic battle with the Reds' best hitter, a hulking left-hander.  Joe got ahead of him 0-2, the mixed a couple of balls in with strikes that the boy fouled off.  In the end, the batter worked the count to 3-2 and got a walk.  Great battle.  

I coached third base, which I love and always have.  As I've said many times, I can get more coaching in at first or third base - in game - than anywhere else on the field.  This is especially true because our boys have not receive any coaching on base running, leading off, stealing bases, etc.  The in game coaching - at first and third base - had not been good.  

I changed the signs before the game.  I also stopped the boys from always taking the first pitch, which is what one of our coaches told them to do.  That's not a baseball philosophy I agree with because I don't want my batters hitting from behind all of the time.  We manufactured two runs on good base running - George and Emmett - and Joe stole third on his own by studying the pitcher's front leg.  That was awesome and one of my favorite things about the game. 

Emmett, who is small but very quick, listened when I stressed to him that if he could pull the ball and hit a grounder to the left side of the field, he would be difficult to throw out at first.  In his last at bat, he battled, fouling two or three balls off with two strikes.  He was late, though, and from where I was standing down the third base line I reminded him to focus on having a quicker bat.  Sure enough, he hit a grounder down the third base line, beat it out, then stole second and third, before scoring on an RBI fielder's choice by Trey on a ground out to second base.  Great at bat and great aggressive base running.

Later, Joe walked, then quickly stole second base.  He noticed the pitcher wasn't paying close attention to him, as he never glanced his way before he began his move toward home.  Without a second thought, Joe broke for third base, sliding in well ahead of the throw from the catcher.  A smart, smart baseball play by Joe, stealing without being given the steal sign because he was paying attention to the pitcher, who wasn't paying attention to him.  It's the little things that I love about baseball.

After the game was over, I jogged out to left field, and the boys jogged after me.  How many times have I jogged into left or right field at the end of games with the Dodgers and Junior Dodgers?  Countless times or so it seems but not at all the last few years, as the Junior Dodgers were subsumed into the Diamondbacks.  It felt so natural, though, to be taking a knee in the outfield, again, late on a school night, thinking about what to say as a group of 11 and 12 year old boys looked up expectantly at me.

I told them how proud I was of them for playing hard against a very good Reds' team.  I pointed out a couple of mistakes that were made - one by Joe - but made sure to compliment them and dwell on the positives I saw from the game.  I recognized Bryce, a quiet boy I don't know too well, for his play at second base.  He made two nice plays in one inning, then a nifty play the next inning, after I put him in at second base.  Something told me he needed the recognition and to be seen.  So, that's what I did, telling the boys if I had a game ball to give, it would go to our "Gold Glove" second baseman, Bryce.

As Joe and I pulled out of the parking lot, I saw Emmett and his father standing at their car, unloading Emmett's gear.  He was talking excitedly to his father with a huge smile on his face.  I almost can guarantee it was the most positive baseball experience Emmett has had all spring.  And, to me, that's what it's all about.

Jude was still out with her friends when we got home and JP had gone to bed.  While Joe showered, I poured myself a bourbon and sat in my favorite red chair in the corner of my office, upstairs, and replayed the entire night and game in my mind.  Throwing with Emmett, giant pepper, Joe pitching, George and Emmett stealing bases and scoring, my in-game conversation with Emmett's father.  All of it.  

What an unexpected gift for me to receive . . . a chance to be the head coach for one of my sons and his teammates one more time.  I'm smiling, right now, Sunday evening, remembering it.  It was the best 8 - 2 loss I've ever been a part of.

Right before he went to bed, Joe walked into my office, smiling.  His hair was wet and standing straight up, which is the way he likes it.  Billy Idol 40 years later.  

Joe looked at me and said, "Dad, that was fun tonight, with you coaching."  

"It really was, wasn't it?" I replied.

He looked at me for a split second, smiling softly, and said, "I love you, Dad," then turned and walked out of my office and into his bedroom.  

"I love you, too, Joe." I said.  

Smiling to myself, I took a sip of my bourbon and enjoyed the end of one of the best nights of my life.

Joe in One Play

Joe has struggled a bit in baseball this spring.  He's the youngest on his team, at 11, and as I've mentioned, we've changed a few things, pitching and hitting, in an effort find more power.  He needs to throw the ball harder when he pitches and he needs to hit the ball harder, too.  It's a process to be sure.

His last two outings, Joe hasn't been able to find his control.  Earlier in this week, he walked five batters in one inning, allowed two hits, and gave up six runs.  We talked afterwards on the ride home - at Joe's request - and agreed his biggest problem on the mound is mental, not physical.  He's pressing and when he walks one batter, he immediately thinks he's headed for another bad outing.  In other words, his mental and emotional approach is lacking.  It's different, but good, for Joe to go through this because, normally, he has supreme confidence in almost anything he does athletically.

I told him his mantra when pitching, going forward, should be "this batter, this pitch."  Stay focused on each pitch, in other words.  Don't worry about what happened last game or with the last batter.  Don't worry about what might happen with the next two batters or next inning.  This batter, this pitch.  I often tell my pitchers to "win this pitch," which is kind of the same thing.

Yesterday morning, we played the Braves.  Good boys, good coaches, good parents.  Joe played all-stars with them last summer and may do so again this summer.  It's a good rivalry for Joe's team - the Nationals - and the teams are pretty evenly matched, as evidenced by yesterday's 6 - 6 final score.

One play, though, encapsulated everything about who Joe is as an athlete.  

Late in the game with one out, a baserunner for the Braves took off from second to steal third base.  Joe, playing third base, caught a good throw from Jack, at catcher, and got the tag down on the runner.  It was close but I felt like the runner was there.  The umpire called him safe.  Joe disagreed and I could tell he was pissed.  Really pissed.  I even made eye contact with him from my seat to the left of the backstop - our team was in the third base dugout - and mouthed he was safe.  Joe shook his head at me in disbelief, though, and I smiled to myself.  

The next batter for the Braves, Henry, absolutely smoked a line drive down the third base line on the first pitch he saw from Eli, our best pitcher.  Instinctively, Joe reacted, lunching to his right and backhanding the line drive at shoulder height before it could get past him into left field and drive in the runner on third base.  The runner, leading off, was caught flat footed because the ball was scorched so hard by Henry.

Joe immediately turned back to third base and emphatically stomped on the bag to complete a double play and end the inning.  For good measure, he spiked the baseball, then ran into the dugout a few steps away.  A bang-bang play.  First silence, then the crowd erupted in cheers, as most of us nodded out heads in acknowledgement of not just Joe's play but his priceless reaction afterwards.  Lindsay - Ram's mom - laughed and said she wished she had videoed the play.  I did, too.  

Joe's teammates clapped him on the back as they followed him into the dugout.  I loved that, of course.  I loved it more when the boys rallied to tie the game during their next at bat.  

Sunday morning, over coffee at Dose, I'm still marveling at the play.  Great reaction to the ball at third base, although that's not Joe's normal position.  Smart, heads up play to double the runner off third.  Last but certainly not least, an intense, fired up reaction from Joe, which was the best.  

After the game, he said he was trying to give the team a spark.  Of course he was.

Because he's Joe.

My sister, Tracy, Joe, and my goddaughter, Kaitlyn, after yesterday morning's baseball game.

A Pitchers' Duel and the End of Middle School Baseball

Friday morning, I woke up with an unfamiliar feeling.  A feeling a hadn't felt since the morning of the state championship finals vs. Giles County in Lawrenceburg for JP's Dodgers, four years ago.  

I was nervous.  

Not for me, of course, but for JP.  Coach Martin had held JP back so he could pitch him against a strong David Lipscomb squad in the first round of the HVAC tournament on Friday night.  JP was excited to get the start in a big game.  I knew he felt like he needed to carry the team for them to have a chance to win.

It's been an up and down season, as I knew it would be.  With such a young team, that was to be expected.  There is a big difference in the maturity level of seventh graders and eighth graders and I know that was challenging to Coach Martin.  All the more reason, I think, for JP to feel like he needed to pitch well and go deep into the game.  

And that's exactly what he did.  

JP and David Lipscomb's pitcher were evenly matched and it was clear, early, that it was going to be a low scoring game unless one team broke it open with a big inning based on walks or errors.  Both pitchers were throwing well enough that it was going to be difficult for the other team to generate any real offense.  Neither team threatened early.

I could tell JP had his good stuff from the beginning of the game.  A lot of hop on his fastball and good control.  He had his curve working well enough to keep batters off balance, too, and even struck a kid out looking on an 0-2 curve ball.  12 o'clock - 6 o'clock, like his guy, Clayton Kershaw.  Slow and sweeping.  He didn't his curve as much, really, as he was spotting his fastball so well that he was able to keep David Lipscomb's hitters off balance.  

Probably the most impressive part of his outing was that he completely kept David Lipscomb's first four hitters in check.  They are baseball players, particularly the shortstop (#27), who hit a 320' home run to deep left field in the game at Pitts Park a couple of weeks ago.  While he didn't overpower the top of their lineup, he induced multiple popups and fly outs early in counts, which kept his pitch count low.  To that end, JP had at least two five or six pitch innings.  

I always tell the boys that the most important thing a pitcher can do is keep the batter off balance.  That doesn't mean, necessarily, striking out a bunch of hitters.  What it does mean, though, is to pitch under control with good control, spot your fastball, work the outside of the plate, and force hitter to ground out weekly or better yet, to hit fly balls.  In other words, trust your defense and let them do their work for you.

By the fifth inning, it looked like JP was tiring a bit.  He gave up a hit or a walk - I forget - but got out of the inning with no further damage.  The sixth inning was more of the same.  As I recall, they leadoff batter walked on four pitches, never a good sign.  The next batter bunted a ball down the first base line - a good baseball play in a scoreless game - and beat it out for a hit when Gavin (at first base) and JP both tried to field the ball, while the second baseman failed to cover first base.  

Trouble.  Men on first and second, no outs, the number eight batter in David Lipscomb's lineup at the plate.  JP got ahead, early, and threw a fastball on the outside half of the plate, which the batter popped up in foul territory just behind first base.  Gavin drifted back and made a nice play to catch the foul popup near the fence just past the infield as David Lipscomb's players and fans jeered in a futile effort to distract him.  

JP noticed that the runner on first base had strayed off the bag, so he scrambled over to first base.  Gavin saw him and tossed the ball to JP to double the runner off first base in what was a veteran, thinking man's baseball play.  Gavin and JP are good friends and the leaders of the team, so it was good to see them make that play.  Two outs, runner at second base.

JP quickly got ahead of the batter in the nine hole.  He threw a fastball on the outside half of the plate, again.  To the hitter's credit, he got enough of the ball to hit a pop up down the right field line behind first base.  The right fielder - who probably was playing too deep - charged in and dove for the ball but couldn't quite get it.  It bounced off his glove just inside the foul line and the run easily scored.  1-0 David Lipscomb.

In the bottom of the sixth inning, David Lipscomb brought their shortstop in to close the game - old #27.  He throws hard.  The boys were overmatched against him when he closed out the game with the bases loaded in the 7-4 loss at Pitts Park.  One of the parents had a radar gun at Friday's game, I later learned, and he was hitting 75 mph.

JP was leading off and took a first pitch fast ball for a strike.  The pitcher threw a curve ball in the dirt, which JP laid off of for ball one.  The next pitch was a fast ball.  JP absolutely smoked it to left center field.  I was thinking double and he was, too, as he took a giant turn around first base.  The left fielder fielded it cleanly and discretion being the better part of valor, JP returned to first base with a leadoff single.

Now, here's where it gets tricky.  I would have had JP stealing own the first pitch, as he's not been thrown out stealing all season long.  Instead, JP stayed put and the next batter tried twice to bunt him over but couldn't get a bunt down.  With two strikes, he hit a ground ball to the left side and forced JP at second base.  The same boy quickly stole second and MBA had a runner in scoring position.

With two outs, Gavin - a lefty - poked a base hit thorough the left side of the infield.  Coach Martin waved the runner home - I would have, too - and the left fielder made a perfect throw to nail him at home by couple of inches.  Inning over.  

When JP came out to pitch the seventh inning, I was surprised, even though I knew his pitch count wasn't high.  As was the case against Ensworth,  the adrenalin was flowing, as JP's fastball had some real pop as he warmed up.  I knew he wanted to finish the game and I loved it.  

David Lipscomb's batters were overmatched - and I don't say that lightly - and JP got out of the inning with five pitches.  I was stunned.  I walked back to where Jude was standing and gave her a kiss.  I think we both had tears in our eyes.  

I watched as JP walked off the field at 42nd Street for what was likely the final time as a middle school baseball player.  Coach Martin met him, stopped him for a long moment, and with his arm around him, congratulated him on a stellar pitching performance.  

I continued to watch as JP sat down on the bench and his teammates, one at a time, lined up to congratulate them.  One after the other, they walked up to him, and patted him on the back or shook his hand.  It was an emotional thing for me to watch as a father.  I wondered what JP was feeling at that exact moment.  Relief.  Pride.  

David Lipscomb retired MBA in the bottom of the seventh inning and just like that, the season was over.  JP's middle school baseball career was over.  

It was a great baseball game between two even matched, well coached teams.  Really, a pleasure to watch.  

It was such a blessing, for me, to watch JP compete - and lead his team - like he did Friday night and, really, all season.  It was exactly the type of season I wanted him to have playing for Coach Martin.   I was, and am, so proud of him.

These are the days.

JP and Gavin.  Team leaders.

JP and Coach Martin.

  

Joey Baseball

I'll cover it at length at some point but for reasons that were out of my control, Joe and the remaining "Junior Dodgers" - Ram, Trey, George, and Nico - ended up without a baseball team to play on this spring a week and a half before the signups for WNSL closed.  Through a fortuitous set of circumstances and after I spent a week working the telephone - and with absolutely no help from Oliver Davis, whom I had coached with on the Diamondbacks for three years - I found a spot for the boys on the Nationals in the WNSL Majors (11 - 12 year olds).

It's been an adjustment to be sure, for Joe and me, playing with different boys and me watching and not coaching.  Again, another story for another time, in terms of how it all went down.  For now, though, we're moving on and enjoying playing baseball with the big boys.

Early in the season and as was the case last season, too, Joe has lost velocity when he's pitching.  I'm convinced he threw harder from the mound when he was nine years old, almost ten, then he has the past year or so.  There's nothing wrong with his arm because he makes all the throws from shortstop and I've seen him throw runners out at home as the cutoff man on balls hit to the outfield.  Also, when he warms up or we long toss, he hums the ball.

What I've decided is that when he pitches, he aims the ball rather than just letting it fly.  There are probably multiple reasons for that but it's been frustrating - for him and for me - to have him take the baseball to pitch and end with balls that have a noticeable arc to them.  This is especially true when he one of his 10 year old all star team's most dependable and durable pitcher last summer.  

JP and I took Joe to David Lipscomb last Sunday for a pitching workout.  I caught while JP stood with Joe and fine tuned his delivery a bit.  Then, JP and I switched, and he caught Joe while I modified his starting position from the stretch, the position of his feet, and worked with him on balance, driving with his legs, and allowing his momentum to take him toward home plate as he finished each pitch.  One workout with more to come because we agreed that Joe was pitching his best a couple of years ago - during the pandemic - when JP was throwing with him every day.

Last night, because he's Joe - and I'd like to think because he's my son - he told Coach Troy he wanted the ball against the Dodgers.  I love that about him.    

Joe is the youngest player on our team.  He's young enough that we could have played him down this season with the 9 - 10 year olds but he didn't want that and I didn't want that for him either.  JP and the Dodgers always moved up early and that's what we wanted to do with Joe.  Better to struggle, early, against 12 year olds, hitting and pitching, then to dominate 9 year olds.  

At any rate, Joe's work over the weekend immediately paid dividends last night.  It was clear he was throwing harder from the get go without sacrificing much control.  I had told him, multiple times, that I was okay if he walked batters as long as he was throwing hard.  He may have walked one or, maybe, two batters last night, but he also struck out seven batters in three innings.  

Now, the Dodgers we played were not very good at all but, still, Joe was throwing hard and piling up the strikeouts.  It was a good, confidence building game for him.  His hitting was average, at best - we're working on that, too - but his pitching was much improved.  The outing was something for him to build on, for sure.  

The key thing for me, of course, is that Joe wanted the ball.  It's the same with JP, too.  He wanted the ball - and he'll get it - this afternoon when MBA plays David Lipscomb in the first round of the HVAC middle school baseball tournament.

Gamers, both of them.  And I love it.

What a Father Wants to Hear

Sometimes, it's not about the results.  

Before the MBA middle school baseball season started, JP and I talked about our expectations about how the season would go.  I reminded him that most likely, his team would struggle at times, given that there were 13 seventh graders and only five eighth graders.  It would be different from last season, when he was the only seventh grader on the A team.  

What I told him, as well, is that I wasn't really concerned about his performance on the field this season.  My goal for him was to grow as a leader, recognizing that this was probably his last chance to truly lead a school sports team until he was a junior or, more likely, a senior in high school.  I was looking for growth in the leadership department.  I thought this was a unique opportunity for JP to develop his leadership skills and I wanted him to take advantage of it.

Sure enough, the team has struggled at times.  They're slightly under .500 right now with the regular season in the books.  The HVAC tournament starting tomorrow night.  It's been frustrating for JP, at times, because some of the younger players don't pay attention or consistently work hard in practice.  JP is a grinder.  He puts the work in and he expects his teammates to do the same.  He's having to learn that winning and losing - and improving individually - isn't as important to everyone as it is to him.  

What I think I'm finding out - and I already suspected - is that a lot of kids these days (especially private school kids) just aren't that hungry to improve, to excel, to achieve.  Somehow, it's become cool not to work hard or strive for success and individual improvement.  So many kids JP and Joe go to school with have everything.  Nice houses, nice cars, extravagant vacations.  Why work hard when it's all given to you?

That's not the way Jude and I are raising our boys.  I'm beyond thankful that JP and Joe understand the value of hard work, maybe because on some level they see Jude and me grinding every day.  They also see me run, often, to try and stay in shape.  They see - I hope - that it takes hard to work to gain a measure of success in life.

Last Friday night, JP played a game at Pitts Park in Antioch.  It's an old school baseball park and one of my favorites.  I was talking to a dad before the game who also happens to be one of JP's favorite teacher thus far at MBA.  He told me how much he enjoyed having JP in class.  He told me JP made his class better my participating and helping lead thoughtful discussions.  Continuing, he complimented JP on being so well rounded as a scholar and an athlete.  Coming from a teacher and coach that JP and I respect, those comments meant a lot to me.  

Tuesday, during a home game at the MBA field on 42nd Street, a father approached Jude and asked if we were JP's parents.  He introduced himself and told us his won was a seventh grader and teammate of JP's. He told us that while JP is a good baseball player, what really had impressed him was what a good leader he was for this team.  Always encouraging other, younger teammates.  Getting the guys ready to play before games.  

Honestly, I get a bit emotional writing this, because as a father, it's exactly what I wanted to hear someone else say about my son.  It's exactly what JP and I talked about before the baseball season started.  JP's grown as a leader, I think, and it makes me really, really proud to see another father notice that about him.

My enduring memory of JP's eighth grade baseball season may be what I saw later that game, after the father talked to Jude and me.  JP was the designated hitter and after his buddy and teammate, Gavin, worked out of a jam to end an inning, Coach Martin and JP, burst from the dugout, side by side, clapping and encouraging the boys as they trotted off the field to bat.  JP looked like an assistant coach, in part because he's bigger than most of the seventh graders.  

Snapshot moment to be sure and one I will remember for a long time.

JP Ohtani

JP's MBA middle school team played Ensworth Tuesday afternoon, at home, on our baseball field on 42nd Street.  JP was hyped for the game because Ensworth is a rival and it was a league game.  Also, he suspected he would pitch.  He was ready.

Fortunately, my work schedule was such that I was able to get across town from Franklin to the game with no problem.  It was a beautiful day for baseball after a lot of rain last week.  Days like Tuesday remind me how lucky I am to be a father and to have the opportunity to watch JP and Joe compete in a variety of sports.  

JP's buddy, Gavin, started the game pitching.  He's a crafty left hander who struggles with his control at times but is a very good pitcher.  He and JP are a good lefty-righty combination, one that I suspect I'll see a lot more of in the years to come.  Gavin's also a fantastic young man.  Polite, respectful, funny.  He's the kind of boy I want JP running around with, to be sure.

Gavin hit the leadoff batter with his first pitch, the irony being he's a friend of his.  He hit the same boy later with two strikes on him.  That's baseball, though.  

Gavin gave up a run in the first when the home plate umpire missed a call.  Gavin covered home on a passed ball and swiped the runner with a nifty tag after an underhanded toss from the catcher.  I sit to the left behind the backstop and had a perfect few of the play.  The runner never touched home plate and Gavin tagged his foot.  Still, the umpire called him safe.  That's also baseball.

In the bottom of the first inning, JP, batting third, laced an RBI single to right center, plating a run.  He stole second and third base, then scored, to give MBA a 2-1 lead after one inning.  

Gavin ran into trouble in the third inning after recording two outs.  Coach Martin brought JP in with runners on first and second in an effort to put out the fire.  That's what JP did, striking out the only batter he faced in the top of the third to end the inning.

In the bottom of the third inning, JP rolled over on the first pitch from Ensworth's pitcher - a big, hard throwing right hander with a suspect curve ball - and ground the ball to third base.  The third baseman rushed his throw and pulled the first baseman off the bag.  JP stole second and third base again, then slid head first into home after the pitcher attempted to look him back on ground ball before throwing to first base for the force out.  4-1, Big Red, after three innings.  

Ensworth nicked JP for a run in the top of the fifth inning.  JP threw an 0-2 curve ball to a hitter toward the bottom of the lineup that likely couldn't have caught up with his fastball.  The batter beat out a slow roller to shortstop and later scored when Ensworth's best hitter - the pitcher I described earlier - dropped a high first pitch fastball just over the shortstop's head into left center field for an RBI single.  JP got out of a jam by striking out Champ, the cleanup hitter, and a great kid that JP played basketball with for a season a few years ago.

In the bottom of the fifth inning, JP absolutely smoked a two out double to left center field.  It was the hardest hit ball of the day for either team.  It was nice to see him hit the ball well two his three times at bat.

I was mildly surprised to see JP walk out to the mound to pitch the sixth and final inning.  He appeared to be tiring in the bottom of the fifth inning but I was wrong about that in a big way.  His first pitch to the first Ensworth was a ball, a high fastball, but it had real pop.  I could tell at that moment that JP's adrenaline was flowing and he was going to close out the game.

That's exactly what the did, too, striking out the first batter swinging.  The second batter lined out to third base.  Then, after getting two quick strikes on the third batter on fastball, JP dropped a curve ball in for strike three, looking.  Three up, three down.  Ballgame.  MBA 4 Ensworth 2.

I was proud of JP because he didn't have his best game, catching, in a tough 4-3 loss to BGA last week.  He let that game go and battled against Ensworth.  

In a family text string during the game in which I was keeping everyone updated, Tracy's son, Matthew, who rarely ever responds to texts, sent a beauty to the group.

"JP Ohtani."  

Indeed.

When Will it Ever End?

JP's 15th birthday was Tuesday but our celebration was muted, to say the least, after the mass shooting at the Covenant School in Nashville on Monday.  I'm not sure any of us felt comfortable celebrating JP's birthday in light of the tragedy that had occurred less than 10 miles from our house.

Nashville's private, or independent, school community is close knit.  Many of the kids went to elementary school together, played sports together, went to camps together, or go to church together.  So many kids, and families, are connected in some way, large or small.  As a result, a tragedy like Monday's, in which three nine year old children and three adults were slaughtered by a deranged 28-year old killer, effects so many of us as waves of grief ripple across our city.  

Monday night at bedtime, JP walked back downstairs in tears because in searching for news about the victims of the shooting on his laptop, he realized that he went to school with Hallie Scruggs' brothers at MBA.  Jude and hugged him and struggled to find words of solace to comfort him.  

What do you tell your son, on the even of his 15th birthday, when he looks you in the eye and asks how can something like this happen?

In that moment, I don't think I've ever felt more inadequate as a father.  How can I explain to JP that he lives in a world where three nine year olds and three adults can be murdered on a Monday morning, at school of all places?  How can that happen?  How can we, as a society, allow that to happen?  Where is God in all of this?  So many questions to ponder this week, many of them existential in nature.  

I don't understand how so many in our country - I would call it a vocal minority - became so gun-loving and gun-worshipping that preserving their right to own an assault rifle is more important than keeping schools safe and preserving the lives of our children.  Why can't we come together, as Americans, and have a reasoned discussion about meaningful gun reform and devoting more resources to mental health treatment.  Wouldn't that be a good place to start?

I can't comprehend how the families of the victims feels today, Sunday, as they prepare to go to church.  The parents of those three innocent children - I can't stop thinking about them.  I don't know how you go on.  I really don't.  

Jude and I had multiple conversations with JP and Joe this week, together and separately.  We've tried to help them process what happened and to answer their questions.  I guess we've tried to give them space but, at the same time, to be there when they wanted to talk about it.  There is no blueprint for how to handle something like this.  No blueprint for the families for the victims, for our family and other like ours, and for our city and our community.  

At one point, on one of our many rides to and from MBA this week, I talked to JP about my faith in God.  I confessed to him that, at first, when my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, I was lost and angry at God.  For a time, I stopped going to church on Sundays, instead going to see her at Maristone and, later, NHC Place in Cool Springs.  Finally, I talked to Father David at our church - St. Patrick - and he helped me gain some much needed perspective.  

I also told him that, for me, it is important to feel like God has a plan for everything and everyone.  I probably couldn't function in life if I believed there was a randomness to everything, particularly the tragedies that occur.  I have to believe that God has his hand in all of it, the good things and the bad things.    All of it.  Now, we're not going to understand the "why" part of God's will but true faith, to me, is trusting that God has a plan.  Someday, somewhere, we'll understand it, but not during our time on this earth.  

I don't know if that was any comfort to JP or if it provided him with any insight.  I do know that JP, on his own, reached out to our priest, Father Hammond.  He's going to have a private conversation with him and I'm grateful for that.  

I'm at a loss and I feel empty, as I finish my Sunday morning coffee at Dose.  On a week when a school shooting occurred so close to home, literally, JP turned 15.  In many ways, the perfect son.  Hard working, kind, dedicated, respectful, earnest, inquisitive, disciplined.  A quiet leader in so many ways, on and off the athletic fields, and in the classroom.  

As I strolled with him through our old neighborhood in the City Elite, I dreamed he would grow up to be the kind of boy he actually has become.  In that way, sometimes dreams really do come true.