DOWN TO THE WIRE... AND DONE

I’ve now written 2 pieces about my 2 older guys fighting their way through their little league season and then, in the playoffs.  In my last piece titled THE AGONY OF VICTORY & THE THRILL OF DEFEAT, I mentioned how my older son’s team, the team I managed, lost their semi-final round and how my 9 year old wished it was him, because, well, baseball is just an activity, not something he actually enjoys.  It was his Agony of Victory for him, meaning, it would have rather lost so he could start his summer!  Well, his team made it to the finals, which meant 1 more game and THEN he could truly enjoy his summer.

I’ve mentioned this before and it’s worth mentioning again; his coaching staff is truly great with the kids and the team is well balanced.  Saturday night was a big night.  The kids were relaxed as they had been all season.  My 9 year old, my “Peanut” as I call him (not in public), was nervous. He’s hated kid pitch Little League all year.  He’s like a magnet in the batter’s box and gets hit all the time.  He really had no desire to get in there.  It was not easy.

His team was in a back and forth drag out game the entire time, giving it their all and fighting for that huge trophy.  For kids, it’s the trophy. That big trophy they could put on their mantle so they can brag about how great their team did at the pool all summer long.  It’s a ranking and even though we may have done it when we were kids, these days it’s vicious and out of control.  I blame the parents for that, but that’s another post for another day…and believe me, it’s coming.

Not to get off track, but the game was a true fight.  In the 6^th inning, their last ups they tied the game up but their opponent held them…and that’s when the walls fell off and they just never could recover.  Silly plays in the field or terrible calls by the umpire, it was clear they’d lost all confidence at that point.  It was wrong and it was weird to see considering they’d never looked that way all year.  Something happened right then… they’d beat themselves.

After the third out, the game was over. There was crying, upset kids in the dugout and coaches wondering what the heck just happened.  Their opponents piled all over each other in the field… they were the champions. 

My son, while sad for his teammates was free!  He finished the season and was quite glad, yet, he never showed his true joy until we got into the car.  He stood like a “concerned” teammate, shaking hands with their opponent, saying “Good game” and all of that. He played the role of loser, but in his mind he won… finally… FINALLY he could do what 9 years olds were supposed to do! He wanted to go play water guns and go swimming and start to gear up toward summer! It was here! 

Organized sports is an interesting thing.  Some kids love them, my 10 year old sure does. But my 9 year old treats it like a prison sentence.  There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just his personality.  Truth be told, it doesn’t matter to me, as long as he doesn’t show bad sportsmanship. He doesn’t and now, next spring, he has a choice, graduate from baseball forever, or play in the agony of it. OR, try something new, maybe go back to swimming, something he enjoyed… who knows. One things clear though… I’m still crazy about my little guy.  He could have quit a dozen times this season, but he stuck it out because he knew quiting after a commitment wasn’t an option… and win or lose… how can you not be proud of that!

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