Same kid, different uniform. We managed to get a one week break from High School ball into summer Leauge ball, and that was only because we were rained out last week! I am not complaining though.
I LOVE baseball.
I love everything about it.
I love watching the boys on the bench, the coaches running strategy, baserunners stealing, and catchers picking them off.
I love the sound of a fast-ball hitting the glove, the smell of the concession stand, the crack of a well hit ball, and look on a guys face as he make the diving catch.
I love the parents in the stands, the bonding of watching our boys do battle together, starting a conversation, just to pick it up seamlessly at the next game, the shared relief of a slump being broken, and the excitement of beating "that" team.
I love watching a simple game of catch between a father and son, or a coach and player. I don't know what kind of magic happens at that moment, but if you have ever watched this you know what I am talking about. It usually starts with gentle tossing back and forth with ever increasing speed and distance. Before you know it they are all out hurling, seeing who can throw harder, catch better. And then, after skill and egos have been tested, they settle into a rhythm, a type of dance with the ball and glove keeping time. They may spend the next several moments in silence, but sometimes, if the magic is right, a heart conversation adds words to the song.