The Kid’s A Hit!
I grew up playing sports. I was competitive. Basketball, baseball, soccer. I was obsessed…and I’m not so sure it was completely healthy. I was too competitive. So, when the kid came along, I promised that whatever he wanted, that was good for me. If he didn’t have any interest in sports, c’est la vie. “The world need ditch diggers too, Danny!” (Sorry, inside joke. You all know who you are.)
Recently, however, the kid is proving to be quite a little hitter. He’s got some talent for baseball, apparently. His best little friend has taken K-Man under his wing and has tutored him into a hitting machine. I admit it – I dig it. Not because I want him to be some kind of jock so I can live out my own sports fantasies, but because sports equals friends.
If you “can play,” you can make friends anywhere. K-Man doesn’t have to be the best kid on the field, but being on the field is pretty important. Watching him approach kids and ask, “Can I play catch with you?” is awesome. The confidence he gains from crushing the ball is measurable. The light in his eye – priceless.
Yes, I have visions of watching him play baseball or soccer in high school. Yes, I want to go to his games. I want to help coach his teams. If he weren’t interested in any of it – that would be fine. But, damn, I love when he asks me if we can play baseball. I love when he asks if we can kick a soccer ball around. And, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I love watching him hit it farther than some other kid. Yeah, I’ll keep that to myself. I don’t want him to be as competitive as I was. But, I’m glad he can hit.
It may all end one day and if it does that’s totally fine. As long as he’s happy. For now, though, I hope he keeps hitting ’em deep.