My First Baseball Game

Last night I took Cam to his first baseball game of the season and he rocked it! His team won 24-17 with only 2 practices under their belt. I captured his first and last hit on my phone's camcorder. I think his first hit was a single and his last one a double. He also made an out somewhere in between but it was hard to keep my eyes on the game with my eyes on the baby too.

There is nothing cuter than watching a bunch of 5 and 6 year old boys play baseball. It's funny to see them standing in the field, motionless, picking their noses until . . . Bam! The batter hits the ball into the field and the players scramble all over the place like cute, little, uniformed cockroaches when you flip the light on. I can't believe how good they are. The coach pitches to them, but they do the rest themselves.

I played a season of soft-ball when I was about that age. It was very different from what I saw yesterday. To start, I was on a girls softball team. It was supposed to be coach-pitch, but we were so bad it became tee-ball. I don't remember the tee making it any easier.

I don't think I ever really understood the game. I'm not sure they explained it. I have only two distinct memories from that time. The first was the mantra I chanted when my team was in the field: "Please don't hit it to me. Please don't hit it to me.  Please don't hit it to me!" If they did hit it to me, I'd grab the ball as fast as I could and throw it to the pitcher. It didn't matter what position I was playing in the field, or where my opponents were on the bases; I only had to remember that one thing.

My other memory comes from my turn up to bat. That was so frightening. Every time. Swinging, missing, and my mother's encouraging shouts: "Pretend it your brother's head!"