Last night I purchased my first ever baseball mitt. Not for my son. For me. Mr. Ten S has a lot of travel booked in the coming weeks and I have been tagged with the responsibility of getting Bink to practice and games and playing some catch with him.
Now what you need to know is that when I was young, girls were not allowed to play Little League, so I have zero real baseball experience. I used to play Chicago ball on the street corner a lot with the neighborhood kids, but you don't need a mitt for that. In short, I have never really had to use a mitt in my life. I'm a little concerned. Those dang little baseballs are hard as rocks too.
So, how the heck do I help my son learn how to play a game that I can't play myself? My assets are that I actually can hit pretty well and know all of the rules, but my deficits are throwing and catching. I bought the kid some books and a DVD to help explain the mechanics of throwing, catching and hitting, but I think live practice is best. This is going to be a comedy in three acts.
Fortunately, it looks like tonight's practice is going to be snowed out, but that means he's going to need even more help next week. The first night of practice was difficult for him. He's in Middle League now, and it is a little more serious. There are kids on his team that are very good players. I think he saw them and got scared. Scared that he wouldn't be good enough to be on the team. Bink loves baseball. Mostly he loves running in the field and playing in the dirt, but he loves it. He watches it on TV, he goes to games and he just plain loves the game. Our family is not rich in athletic talent, so Bink is not necessarily a gifted player. I think we'd all settle this year for average. So I guess he and I will fumble our way through this. I'm hoping most of the laughing will be directed at me. I'm a far better sport about things like that. I figure if neither of us ends up with a black eye or knocked out teeth, we'll have been successful.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
The Blind Leading the Blind
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11 comments:
No, I can't stop it-- Do you throw like a girl?
Sorry.
I have lots of baseball experience. It's just that this almost 46-year-old body (a month from today) is getting crankier and crankier about playing catch for 2 hours a day.
Oh yeah, I'm guessing I throw like a girl. I don't mind the laughter. 2 hours a day? We're in trouble. I think I need to hire the boy next door to pick up my slack.
You can't hire Jens; that kid has a fastball that would rival most of the Cubs pitching staff. One misplaced pitch and Bink is a dead man.
I admire you for trying. I'm such a girl about playing ball these days ...
Look at it this way. No one in my family helped me try to learn anything athletic. I take it back, my brother taught me to ride a bike. But that's it.
What is the point here? None, I guess. I just thought I'd whine a little.
"tonight's practice is going to be snowed out..."
How about signing him up for little league hockey.
Two bad we're not neighbors-- that would solve both problems. My guess is that if we let them, they'd play catch for like 4 hours a day.
They have pink mitts in baseball now?
I kind of like the mitt with a splash of pink, and I generally don't like pink. What I like better is that the mitt fits my hand. Little League update, they have postponed opening day for a week due to weather and lack of practice time. Whew!
they have pink mitts, pink balls, pink bats. My perfect niece wears a pink cubs hat.
You might try letting Bink teach you how to catch and throw.
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