My son’s team made the playoffs last night and quite often
I’ll equate his team to some of those Yankee teams that make it to the
playoffs and something is a miss. Obviously it's on a much smaller scale, but what I mean is, they have the tools, but when you need them to come up big, sometimes it just doesn't happen. Bottom line, the
kids won last night, but it wasn’t with alittle struggle.
That being said, I’ve been noticing a change in my
son lately and I’m keeping an eye on it…the passion is becoming ferocious and as he
sat there on the bench after a fly out… I saw Jorge Posada on that little
league bench. He just sat there, quiet, staring at the field and replaying his last at bat in his head like
it was his last one on this earth. I get it, but man oh man, he's 9... he's just too hard on himself.
Jorge Posada was one of my favorite players because he
didn’t give up no matter what. His focus
was clear, his passion was clear and his ability, while shot down by the
doubters, will be remembered fondly in the years to come. Jorge Posada believed.
He believed he could be the best even though others didn’t think
so. In the end, he delivered until he
was forced out and couldn’t deliver on the field anymore. He walked away a champion and now I look at
my son, who wants it so bad, but with the struggle comes over-thinking and
anxiety. Not because I force him to play this game, but because he loves this
game so much and he knows he can be the best.
Let me state it here, it scares the hell out of me…he’s 9 years
old. No one needs that pressure and it
actually crossed my mind that maybe he needs alittle break as he sat there
“thinking” too much. Then, in his next
at bat, he cranked one up the middle, stormed toward first and as the
outfielder threw it in, he dug toward 2nd. He was on a mission. Luckily the kid missed it and then he booked
toward 3rd. It was right then that I realized that 3rd
base was on his mind all along. He slid
in hard and was safe. He stood up,
smacked his hands together and looked in his dugout. Then, his game face cracked a smile. He was back.
Baseball is a game of failure. Only the truly great succeed, the others just
call it a job. Think about it, you hit a
ball with a skinny bat, no easy
task. That's why there's a Hall of Fame, to group together the truly great ones. But my son wants it, he wants it
more than anyone out on that field some days.
Sure, you want your kids to be successful, but when is the pressure too
much? I’m struggling with this one right
now… the last thing I want is a kid who pushes himself too much.
(In Photo: Rod Carew)
But then I think about all the greats… Rod Carew… Mickey Mantle… Greg Maddux… and Jorge Posada and I know that he can do
anything if he really wanted it, but I definitely need to keep an eye on it.
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