Life Lessons From the Diamond

Texas baseball is for real, y'all. 

I knew back when Tate was in kindergarten and began playing on a "select" team, that kids down here can play some ball and play it well.  For the last three years, like our fellow baseball families, we spend at least three to four weekdays at private hitting/pitching coaches, outdoor field practice, indoor batting practice, and league games.  With the exception of some of December and January, this is our life year round.  (Remember, we live in Texas!) And once February rolls around, the boys play tournaments all over the Dallas area about every other weekend till July. 

But he loves it this way, so we love it this way.

Now to some, this may seem overkill.  Some may even worry about burning their kids out at this rate.  And while, of course,  from time to time this thought crosses my mind as my eight year flops into bed at 9:30 on a school night, his genuine love for the game puts my mind at ease immediately. 

Tate's plays on an 8U AAA team full of little boys that love baseball as much as he does.  They currently are playing "up" in a 9UAA league during the week.  9U is the level where the rules of the game change significantly... It goes from coach pitch to kid pitch - with walks, stealing, balks, three outfielders (compared to having four in 8U), and no run rules per inning.  We've been sticking to 8U tourneys, however, decided to play in a huge (46 teams!) 9U tourney this weekend. 

Our team played their hearts out over the past two days, and while they ended up 2-2, they beat some impressive teams through pure determination, grit, and teamwork.  Not bad for their first time playing up in a 9U tourney.  And although none of our boys like to lose, I'm realizing that our kids are learning so much about life from this game they love so much...

• Keep focused - don't let other people's actions or reactions distract you from your goal.
• Cheaters never win.
• Life isn't always fair and sometimes you just have to accept that. 
• Respect everyone - even when you disagree with them.
• Encouragement and support does more than criticism and negativity.
• Surround yourself with others that pick you up when you're down.
• Trying your best doesn't always give you the outcome you're hoping for.

This last one really got me tonight when we got home.  You see, in the last game today, Tate pitched.  Like I said earlier, our boys are just beginning to play kid pitch and they have a lot to learn.  Well today just wasn't Tate's day.  For whatever reason, he was just off and had a really hard time on the mound.  As a mom, I could see him falling apart, as his confidence started to wane.  Eventually, he got pulled and was sent back to short stop, where his body language showed his frustration for the remainder of the game.  And there I was helpless, watching my baby try his best to hold it together when I know he really just wanted to breakdown.

When we got home, Tate and I talked about the game and he voiced how frustrated he was that he "did terrible!" So I asked him if he tried his absolute best while he was pitching.  He said yes.  I told him that no matter the outcome, I'm proud of him as long as he's trying as hard as he can.  I also told him how it's unacceptable to pout about your performance while there's still a game going on.  I told him that once he gets to the car or home, he is more than welcome to vent and express his sadness or anger about his contribution to his team.  But during a game, you try your hardest till the last out.  NO excuses.

After our talk, I continued cooking dinner and I noticed him lingering in the kitchen.  A few minutes later, he hugged me around my waist and said, "Thanks, Mom."  I hugged him back and told him again how proud I was to watch him pitch even though it didn't turn out the way he wanted it to. It was at this point that he couldn't hold it in any longer.  He let loose and just cried and cried and cried.  I just stood there and hugged him tightly, as he said the words that put a lump in my throat, "I was so excited to get my chance to pitch, Mom.  I was waiting the whole tournament for that."  And then he cried some more, as my heart broke for him.  My poor buddy.  It's hard to explain to an eight year old that sometimes our best just isn't good enough.  And when that happens, we have to just be okay with that.  Accept it, move on, and keep trying. 

Tate is only eight years old and doesn't even realize the wisdom that he's acquiring every time he puts on his #18 jersey and those dirty old cleats.  I am so blessed that my son gets to learn these lessons alongside a bunch of other ballplayers just like him.  Boys that are kind-hearted and supportive and funny and eager and hardworking.  I am continually impressed by this team, both on and off the field.  Little do they know that baseball is helping to shape their little minds and hearts into the men they'll eventually become.  And I think that's pretty great...

Love to y'all,
Tracy