Posts Tagged "son"

Strike!

Posted by Dad on Nov 22, 2008 in Family | 0 comments

“I’m nervous dad,” my son, The Big Guy, said as he turned the ball over in his glove. Quick glances over to the stands and kicking the dirt around a bit.

“That’s OK, buddy.  You’ve been practicing. You can pitch.  Lets see how it goes. OK?  Just like we practiced at home.”

He gave me a quick look in the eyes and nodded. “OK,” he said.

He was having a good game.  He had hit a single and come home after his teammate smacked a huge in the park home run. He had also jumped sidewise to snatch a blazing line drive and then stepped on third base to get his team’s first double play this season. But, he has never pitched at a game before. Ever. It’s not easy to come into the game to pitch the last inning even though we were up by 9 runs.

He struck out his first batter. I saw some semblance of a smile as I tried to hold back tears.  I was trying to control myself so as not to make him more nervous. “Way to go, buddy!” I yelled out to him trying to hide my feelings.

Next batter, strike, strike, strike. You’re out!  “OH YEAH!” I heard myself say.  One more out and it’s the game.

His smile widened.

Then the wheels came off…walk, walk, Smack, run, run, run. Three runs in a matter of minutes.  He’s thrown a bunch of pitches and I can see he’s tired.  His eyes begin to well up.

“Are you OK, buddy?” I call out. He nods that he isn’t trying to be a little man and hold back the tears.

He’s always very hard on himeself. Too hard. Much harder than we are on him. It’s something he needs to learn to control. He wants to do so well and is so disappointed in himself when he doesn’t meet his own expections.

I run out to the mound. “Buddy, you’re doing fine. Let’s just pitch to this batter and then we’ll let you rest. OK?” I tell him reassuringly. My hand on his shoulder.

He nods an OK. Takes a deep breadth and readies himself.

Ball! Ball! Strike! Foul ball! Ball!

Oh my God, full count I think to myself. Something inside me is twisting itself into knots. The pain I feel for him. I want so much for him to strike this guy out to spare him the hard lesson we must all learn- sometimes you lose. Just let it be over.

He takes a deep breadth, winds up and throws!  Swoosh! Strike!

“You’re OUT! That’s the game!” bellows the umpire.

Whoah!!!  I’m too old for this!

He runs to the dug out smiling like if nothing happened.  I can’t stop smiling, bursting from the volcano of pride inside me. What a feeling.

“I knew you could do it!” I whisper to him as I grab and hug him.

And it’s outta here!

Posted by Dad on Apr 17, 2008 in Family, Parenting | 5 comments

I want to give a proud shout out to all my fellow dads commemorating my boy’s first official home-run!  It happened Tuesday night at the semi-final game for his little league (he’s eight).

The first pitch was high. He swatted at it.

“Come on! Keep your eye on the ball and swing hard!”

Second pitch. In the ground, too low. He didn’t swing.

“Good boy! Good eye! Good eye!”

Third pitch. SMACK!

As if in slow motion, I stand and throw my arms up as I see the ball sail towards left field. The roar of jumping parents and teammates almost too faint to hear.

I turn to see the umpire with his finger in the air doing circles. It’s a homer!!

“Get out there boys!,” I yell to the boys in the dugout. “Go give him a high five!”

I’m overcome with emotion and pride. My eyes tear.

“That’s MY son,” I whisper to myself.

“Way to go, buddy!”

All the best

The heart of a good kid

Posted by Dad on Apr 10, 2008 in Dad Issues, Family, Parenting | 1 comment

My son was telling me that this one boy constantly picks on him because he likes pokemon.  “He says I’m a dork, dad,” his eyes watering.

“I check out those gun and army tank books from the library so no one will think I’m a dork. But, what I wanted to check out is books on pokemon.”

My heart broke for him. He’s such a good kid that doesn’t deserve to be ridiculed in school. It’s so unfair and you feel powerless to help. Of course, my heartache turned to anger and I told him what I thought he should do.

“Next time he teases you, you belt him one if you want,” I said hoping to give him the courage he will need. I mean, I don’t condone violence, but with bullies like this kid, there’s simply no reasoning.  Trying to reason with the abuser will only cause more abuse.

“I want to do that, Dad. But, if I do that everyone will hate me for hitting someone. It’s just not worth it.” 

I could see the goodness in his heart. He said that out of compassion not fear or intimidation. My son is twice the size of the kid picking on him.  He simply didn’t want to do something he considers wrong.

What a heart my son has. Just when you think you couldn’t be prouder of your child, they go and prove you wrong.

All the best

Goodbye, Jerry.

Posted by Dad on Mar 6, 2008 in Family, Parenting | 0 comments

Three years ago, at the school festival, my son and daughter won a pair of goldfish.  You know the type.  I think they call them feeders now but were “goldfish” back when we were kids.

I can’t remember the game right now but I do remember looking into the booth where the fish were.  What seemed like thousands of fish bounced around old 20 gallon aquariums.  Young kids and volunteer parents scooped them up into plastic bags and would give them out to the kids as prizes.

“What a massacre,” I remember thinking.  “These poor fish won’t last a week with these kids.” 

I looked over and saw goldfish in plastic bags being crammed into tiny pockets, left on the floor while kids went on rides, swinging this way and that as the kids ran.  I found it amazing that a Catholic school could not see what we were doing to these poor creatures.

With over 30 years of fishkeeping exprience, I helped my kids set up a semi-optimal environment for the fish.  The kids learned to take care of them by feeding them and alerting me when the water needed changing. They even named them, “Jerry and Goldy”.  And, along we went for three years.  The fish swam and my kids would remember to look at them at times.

Well, Jerry passed away earlier this week.  Of course, I spotted him floating first and made quick work of flushing him to a watery grave before the kids saw him.  I then stayed quiet.  I’m not sure why.  Too chicken to tell the kids and have their hearts broken, I guess. Or, I thought, maybe they wouldn’t care?

“What happened to Jerry, Dad?” was what my son said as I walked into my room after a long day at work.  I froze and turned to see him standing in front of the fish bowl staring at me.

Putting on a brave face, I told him Jerry had passed away and was now in a better place- heaven.  He was old and goldfish don’t live too long.

My daughter put up a tough face and didn’t say anything.  My son did too, initially.  After a few minutes, this little eight year old couldn’t hold it any more and he broke out into tears. 

“Why did he have to go?”, “I’m starting to forget him” and “I want him to come back!”, were the things I remember him saying.  His little heart was broken and he was hurting.

We tried to put him to bed. It was late. But shortly thereafter, he got up and asked if he could color so that he could stop thinking about Jerry.  He drew the following pictures. Bless him.

I think what hit him the hardest was not that his fish died, but the shock of death.  This is the first time he’s had to deal with it and it “ain’t” easy.  We, his parents, helped him as much as we could but in the end it’s up to him to come to grips with it. We all do at some point.  It shocks us, we rage against it, we run from it, but… with time… we learn to live with it.  We are all here for a time and then we’re not. 

My son just began to learn that lesson.  In so doing, he’s reminded me to appreciate every day.

All the best