Baseball Moment

Awesome story! IMO, there is nothing better than the baseball relationship a father has with his son. EPIC!

GED10DaD

Cool. Very cool.

Great story...goose bumps!

My son is also a 2011 preparing to commit, and after getting back from Florida last night, he said Dad I just wanted to thank you for taking me to Jupiter and everywhere else this past summer.

Priceless...

I am by no means a sentimental guy but I remember one thing from sons HS career---

At his senior year section awards dinner one of the HS coaches asked how he ended up at New Mexico State.(we were in Westchester County, NY

My son said simply in response " Talk to my dad, he made it happen."

'nuff said----

quote:

what he has learned and the time and the moments we have shared that makes the journey so special

This is so very true. The look on their face when they get that "new cherished" bat or glove, or the trip together to a camp, those memories are all special. Now "G" is in college but when I have the urge to reflect on the special times there is a picture frame in his room that holds a picture of him hitting during a game when he was about 11 years old. The frame was one that recorded his voice message; simply he says "thanks Dad for all the help with Baseball, I love you."

Even now it still brings tears to my eyes when I play it!!

for sure, The baseball days are all PRICELESS!

I have a picture on my desktop of my son when he was around 6. He is sitting in the dugout holding his bat, wearing a red helmet and the biggest smile imaginable.

At 16, this kid still loves to have a bat in his hand, absolutely loves to hit.

I use the picture to remind myself to never do anything to take away the joy of baseball from him.

There’s a picture on our wall that I like to call “The Day We Started to Love Baseball”. In the pic are 4 boys: my son and his best bud, just 9, but already friends for 5 years; my younger son; and the friend’s older brother. They had each just completed the annual LL tournament championship game for their level; all but the older brother won. We all went out to celebrate, and for the first time, talked nothing but baseball. We never looked back.

I don’t remember the wins taht day as much as the fact that my oldest son was terrible all season (AA). Never got a hit until the tournament. The first time he made contact, the ball ended up just outside the batter’s box, barely fair. He stood there and stared, so stunned he forgot to run. I jumped up and down as if I had won the lottery. That season his wise old coach noticed son’s strong arm and started him pitching. For a kid with ADD and no confidence, that was big. Just this week we found out that a pretty good college is now tracking him. Who could have guessed?

Younger son was on the first team my husband ever coached…a bunch of 6 year-olds (A). At the beginning of the season "coach" went on and on about what good athletes the kids were, and how he thought they all had a shot to win the tournament. We laughed and told him he was nuts. Well, they won. A few years later, he predicted in February that son’s All Star team would end up at states. We laughed, and told him he was nuts. Well, it’s a good thing we didn’t have other vacation plans the week of the state tournament in July. We still laugh and tell him he’s nuts, but we no longer ignore his crazy predictions.

But the thing I remember most when I look at that picture is the beautiful 16-year old girl who was killed on the road behind our house on the day my older son first hit the ball. In all my excitement that day, I couldn’t help but think of the family that lost their beloved daughter too soon. I remember the crazy, competitive parents on the other team who were so consumed with winning that they accused our coach of cheating (senior moment, if anything), and the vigil outside my son’s window as he tried to go to sleep after the game. I recall passing the church while the funeral was taking place on my way to the field that championship Saturday.

It’s so easy to lose perspective as we watch our kids struggle and succeed. The competitiveness among players (acceptable) and parents (not!) is tough. Coaches can be mentors or abusers, but regardless, the kids are usually hardest on themselves. We parents spend sleepless nights worrying ourselves sick. When I get to that point… or am awakened by hubby tossing and turning…I just remember that pic and that beautiful girl and try to calm myself by thinking how lucky we are to be where we are, struggles and all.

Those are the greatest memories.....I have one from last spring that will prob. last forever.

During the National Anthem, my 3 year old son broke away from Mom and come running out on the field to line up with the team. The players all gave him high 5's and he was loving it.

http://www.tatumbaseball.vnspo...6BCC7B7E0A5E737&i=13

MHC: you hit about everything in that post. Very touching portrait of life.

One of my earliest and strongest memories of my early days of baseball is when we would ride our bikes to the edge of town over to the LL diamonds during the summer. There was always plenty of other kids there and we would just play some un-organized baseball.

Across the street for a couple of weeks of the year, migrant workers would hoe the beets (sugarbeets)... there would be kids my age over there all day working in the fields alongside their moms, dads, siblings and granparents while my buddies and I would play baseball.

Coaches can be mentors or abusers, stated by MHC77, so very true and the same can be said about mom and dad. So often how we live our lives dictates how our children view their lives.