I thought I already started this thread but cannot find it. I love the Pet Peeve thread but thought maybe we could be a little more positive. What do you love about this great game?
I'll start.
October baseball
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T-Ball with 5 and 6 year-olds.
October baseball would be my number one also, ah until February comes; then it's Spring Baseball!
Playing catch with my sons, and watching them play the game!
Youth baseball, when the last guy finally gets a hit in the last game.
I went out with a friend last week to have a drink and watch the ALDS. We were sitting at the bar sharing a basket of buffalo wings and watching the game talking when an elder man came and sat beside me. He ordered a drink from the bartender and quietly took his hat off and placed it down to his side at the bar.
My friend and I continued to talk, and our conversation turned away from the ALDS and towards our own team (this particular friend is a teammate of mine in college). We talked for a few minutes about our team- what I call "jock gossip". The elderly man still quietly sat in his seat, motionless and unassuming.
A half an inning went by before he turned to me and spoke.
"I'm sorry to eavesdrop, but do you play baseball for the school team here?" he asked.
"Yes sir, we both do," I said, pointing to my friend sitting next to me.
The old man's face lit up.
"I played professional baseball in the 1940's, after the war," he began to explain. He served in the Air Force in WWII, and spent "a little bit of time hovering above the Pacific Ocean". When he came back from the war, he went back to his hometown in Pennsylvania and began working at a factory.
"I was 23 years old, in 1947. The Indians invited me to spring training. They saw me play in a semi-pro league, at a game at a high school outside of Harrisburg. It was the first year spring training was ever in Arizona, and aside from the war I had never been farther west than Pittsburgh. But I went. Boy was I cocky. I thought I could waltz right in and play the outfield in Cleveland. Bob Feller was the first pitcher I ever faced in spring training...
I was sent to the minors right after that at bat!" He let out a long laugh. He went on to tell us about the five years he played in the minor leagues, and that if he could only hit a curveball "I'da been in the big leagues!"
We talked with this man for hours...the conversation started in the third inning of the ALDS game and lasted well beyond the final pitch. We shared stories from Little League, ways pitchers tip their pitches, how to hide drunk teammates from angry MiLB managers when they break curfew.
Finally, after several hours of talking baseball, we asked this man what brought him to central New York.
"My wife died last year. Married for 51 years. I felt empty when she first passed, been feeling empty ever since. I figured there's only one other thing that I love the way I love her, and that's baseball. And you know what? I ain't never been to Cooperstown. 87 years old, never been to the Hall of Fame. I thought maybe going there would comfort me, make me feel love."
"Did it work?" my friend asked.
"Don't know, I'm going tomorrow," he chuckled, "but you know what guys? I'm sure it will. You guys are almost 70 years younger than me and I been talkin' to you for hours. There's nothing else in the world that can do that for you, give you that kind of connection. Nothing other than baseball. Baseball doesn't care how old you are, it's timeless."
We just smiled. He put money down on the bar and stood to leave.
"It's been a pleasure, guys. Thanks for letting an old man smile bigger than he has in a long while."
...
That's why I love baseball.
My friend and I continued to talk, and our conversation turned away from the ALDS and towards our own team (this particular friend is a teammate of mine in college). We talked for a few minutes about our team- what I call "jock gossip". The elderly man still quietly sat in his seat, motionless and unassuming.
A half an inning went by before he turned to me and spoke.
"I'm sorry to eavesdrop, but do you play baseball for the school team here?" he asked.
"Yes sir, we both do," I said, pointing to my friend sitting next to me.
The old man's face lit up.
"I played professional baseball in the 1940's, after the war," he began to explain. He served in the Air Force in WWII, and spent "a little bit of time hovering above the Pacific Ocean". When he came back from the war, he went back to his hometown in Pennsylvania and began working at a factory.
"I was 23 years old, in 1947. The Indians invited me to spring training. They saw me play in a semi-pro league, at a game at a high school outside of Harrisburg. It was the first year spring training was ever in Arizona, and aside from the war I had never been farther west than Pittsburgh. But I went. Boy was I cocky. I thought I could waltz right in and play the outfield in Cleveland. Bob Feller was the first pitcher I ever faced in spring training...
I was sent to the minors right after that at bat!" He let out a long laugh. He went on to tell us about the five years he played in the minor leagues, and that if he could only hit a curveball "I'da been in the big leagues!"
We talked with this man for hours...the conversation started in the third inning of the ALDS game and lasted well beyond the final pitch. We shared stories from Little League, ways pitchers tip their pitches, how to hide drunk teammates from angry MiLB managers when they break curfew.
Finally, after several hours of talking baseball, we asked this man what brought him to central New York.
"My wife died last year. Married for 51 years. I felt empty when she first passed, been feeling empty ever since. I figured there's only one other thing that I love the way I love her, and that's baseball. And you know what? I ain't never been to Cooperstown. 87 years old, never been to the Hall of Fame. I thought maybe going there would comfort me, make me feel love."
"Did it work?" my friend asked.
"Don't know, I'm going tomorrow," he chuckled, "but you know what guys? I'm sure it will. You guys are almost 70 years younger than me and I been talkin' to you for hours. There's nothing else in the world that can do that for you, give you that kind of connection. Nothing other than baseball. Baseball doesn't care how old you are, it's timeless."
We just smiled. He put money down on the bar and stood to leave.
"It's been a pleasure, guys. Thanks for letting an old man smile bigger than he has in a long while."
...
That's why I love baseball.
Beautiful post JH. And so true.
Josh, that is one great story, and it was wonderfully written.
Playing ball in the Fall..where it's chilly in the morning and by game time it's perfect.
The crack of a well hit ball with wood.
The pop of a pitch hitting a mitt.
The look on a hitter's face when a pitcher throws a great curve.
The crack of a well hit ball with wood.
The pop of a pitch hitting a mitt.
The look on a hitter's face when a pitcher throws a great curve.
It is the perfect avenue for you to never have to grow up.
It allows you to be able to chase the ever illusive dream.
It can bring tears to your eyes whenever you look in the mirror and look at the jersey you have on and you realize that your dreams are coming true.
It can bring a smile to your face whenever you get the game winning hit and your teammates mug you.
It can teach you tough life lessons whenever you strike out with the winning run on base.
It allows you to be able to chase the ever illusive dream.
It can bring tears to your eyes whenever you look in the mirror and look at the jersey you have on and you realize that your dreams are coming true.
It can bring a smile to your face whenever you get the game winning hit and your teammates mug you.
It can teach you tough life lessons whenever you strike out with the winning run on base.
This thread has serious upside. I like its make up. I think you hit a HR with this one Papi.
quote:Originally posted by Coach_May:
This thread has serious upside. I like its make up. I think you hit a HR with this one Papi.
I agree. Josh has also hit a home run and I challenge others to hit one out of the park as well.
I love:
The perfectly executed hit and run
The flawless turn of a double play
The full extension layout for a ball up the gap
The surprise squeeze
The gunning down of a runner at home
The excitement of the triple
The strike 'em out, throw 'em out
The "perfect" pitch
The perfectly executed hit and run
The flawless turn of a double play
The full extension layout for a ball up the gap
The surprise squeeze
The gunning down of a runner at home
The excitement of the triple
The strike 'em out, throw 'em out
The "perfect" pitch
Many of us preach to our son's the importance of hard work and dedication. I have pounded it into my son's head that baseball is a great game and to respect the game. I have told him if you can't give it your all each time you step on the field then you should't be playing. I often wonder if he listens to me or just gives it the old "ok dad" - in one ear and out the other.
Recently I wrote a thank you to his summer teams organization and cc'd the coach. Below is part of the response I received back. To me the response is reinforcement that commitment, hard work, dedication and conducting yourself in a professional manner does get noticed even it doesn’t always lead to immediate success. All the awards, press clippings etc can’t measure up to what is said by the coach.
I apologize for this post appearing to be self-selfing -its not meant to be, I just thought it was a good teaching point about the benefits of working hard.
'I do need to highlight one point of the summer that stuck out for me. After ***x was hit by that pitch in the face at *** ******x, and then was diagnosed with Mono, I thought for sure he'd decide to shut down for the rest of the summer. The normal, run-of-the-mill college baseball player would do that, looking at the time period for recovery and the looming fall baseball season that was just weeks away on the horizon. Even after ***x vowed to return to ******x after his sickness, I still wasn't convinced he'd be back. I knew he was acting in good faith, but A) he needed to be cleared and B) he needed to find that motivation to move back to ******x and get back into it. When ***x returned, he not only played extremely well but also sold me on what I was hoping he was all along..........x ***x ******xx, ************, ***xx-***xx, ******, x ***x ******x player. What a refreshing experience it was for me to move through the summer with ***x, as he never quit, even though the easiest thing to do may have been to look ahead to fall baseball and not finish his summer in ******x.'
Recently I wrote a thank you to his summer teams organization and cc'd the coach. Below is part of the response I received back. To me the response is reinforcement that commitment, hard work, dedication and conducting yourself in a professional manner does get noticed even it doesn’t always lead to immediate success. All the awards, press clippings etc can’t measure up to what is said by the coach.
I apologize for this post appearing to be self-selfing -its not meant to be, I just thought it was a good teaching point about the benefits of working hard.
'I do need to highlight one point of the summer that stuck out for me. After ***x was hit by that pitch in the face at *** ******x, and then was diagnosed with Mono, I thought for sure he'd decide to shut down for the rest of the summer. The normal, run-of-the-mill college baseball player would do that, looking at the time period for recovery and the looming fall baseball season that was just weeks away on the horizon. Even after ***x vowed to return to ******x after his sickness, I still wasn't convinced he'd be back. I knew he was acting in good faith, but A) he needed to be cleared and B) he needed to find that motivation to move back to ******x and get back into it. When ***x returned, he not only played extremely well but also sold me on what I was hoping he was all along..........x ***x ******xx, ************, ***xx-***xx, ******, x ***x ******x player. What a refreshing experience it was for me to move through the summer with ***x, as he never quit, even though the easiest thing to do may have been to look ahead to fall baseball and not finish his summer in ******x.'
Josh's post brought back a neat memory.
In one of my previous careers, I worked in the insurance/investment field. One day I sat in the home of an elderly couple who I knew from church.
They asked how my boys were doing in baseball. Then he went on to tell me about how he played for a local semi-pro team. Apparently each town had a team, probably sponsored by the local furniture or feed store.
If I remember correctly, these guys had full time jobs and played for this team on the side. And back then, I imagine the 20-mile trip was a whole-day deal.
You should have seen his face light up as he recalled his days on those old dusty diamonds.
Thanks, Josh. You really got my juices flowing for old local baseball history. Think I'll do some research this winter.
In one of my previous careers, I worked in the insurance/investment field. One day I sat in the home of an elderly couple who I knew from church.
They asked how my boys were doing in baseball. Then he went on to tell me about how he played for a local semi-pro team. Apparently each town had a team, probably sponsored by the local furniture or feed store.
If I remember correctly, these guys had full time jobs and played for this team on the side. And back then, I imagine the 20-mile trip was a whole-day deal.
You should have seen his face light up as he recalled his days on those old dusty diamonds.
Thanks, Josh. You really got my juices flowing for old local baseball history. Think I'll do some research this winter.
I love this game because of all the wonderful people I have met through the years. From T-Ball to High School, Summer College Wood Bat Leagues to MLB Games, Showcases and Tournaments....baseball people are just the best!
biggerpapi, THANKS! I'm headed up to see my parents. My Mom is in bad shape. They are both in their 80s. It won't take long for my dad to talk baseball. It has been one of our common bonds. I recall going to visit my dad once while he was at work at a muffler shop. He was in his mid 70s then but still had to work. When I walked in, my dad had to introduce me to all of the guys that worked there. They said that they all felt that they knew me. My dad followed the teams that I coached and a part of his daily routine was to tell his co workers about how my team did during the springs. I love this game!
This game has given more to me than I could ever give back...even though I'll try. I guess I never truly realized how this game is so much a part of my family.
My wife is not from a baseball or athletic family, but she is starting to realize how much baseball and sports figures in while watching the work our 14 year old is putting in....on his own.
My first memory on this planet is my Dad coming home from work, still in a coat and tie. He would turn a tube sock inside out, roll it up and give it to me. He's squat down like a catcher and I would pitch. When I told my Dad about remembering this several years ago he looked shocked. Told me I couldn't remember that...I was barely walking.
My son is 14. His first word was 'ball'. His second was Daddy. The joke between my wife and I is that he learned 'Daddy' second so that he could say 'Ball' then 'Daddy' and I would get the ball for him.
I never thought I would be able to coach young kids. I coached older kids before my son was born, and when he was very young. I got roped into coaching my son's first team. I realized two things right off the bat.
Teaching other kids makes me appreciate my own.
Little ones are like clay...you can mold them however you want.
I still don't feel like I'm giving back to baseball. Everytime a kid 'gets' a teaching point, everytime the light bulb goes off, the feeling I personally get is one of true satisfaction. It's a feeling I can't describe.
I've coached my son for 14 years. I enjoyed stepping away when he made the HS team. Other parents assumed I would have trouble with that...but I didn't.
Seeing my son work his butt off to make the JV team as a 8th grader, and actually become a starter...that was something wonderful to watch. Not the result so much as the maturing process.
Then to find out he was never 100%, and he played through nagging pain (not a baseball injury) just made me respect him even more. He definitely knows now that playing with an injury is NOT the smart thing to do. He's worked back and is actually in the best shape of his young life. To see him grow and develop both physically and emotionally? It's been quite an honor.
Baseball has been there the whole time.
Sure my son's baseball journey is really just beginning, and anything could happen. But already I've got memories I'll have forever.
The kid sitting on the front porch when I got home from work...ball bucket ready, his first question "Dad you ready to go hit?"
There are many more that I already have, and many more to come hopefully.
My wife is not from a baseball or athletic family, but she is starting to realize how much baseball and sports figures in while watching the work our 14 year old is putting in....on his own.
My first memory on this planet is my Dad coming home from work, still in a coat and tie. He would turn a tube sock inside out, roll it up and give it to me. He's squat down like a catcher and I would pitch. When I told my Dad about remembering this several years ago he looked shocked. Told me I couldn't remember that...I was barely walking.
My son is 14. His first word was 'ball'. His second was Daddy. The joke between my wife and I is that he learned 'Daddy' second so that he could say 'Ball' then 'Daddy' and I would get the ball for him.
I never thought I would be able to coach young kids. I coached older kids before my son was born, and when he was very young. I got roped into coaching my son's first team. I realized two things right off the bat.
Teaching other kids makes me appreciate my own.
Little ones are like clay...you can mold them however you want.
I still don't feel like I'm giving back to baseball. Everytime a kid 'gets' a teaching point, everytime the light bulb goes off, the feeling I personally get is one of true satisfaction. It's a feeling I can't describe.
I've coached my son for 14 years. I enjoyed stepping away when he made the HS team. Other parents assumed I would have trouble with that...but I didn't.
Seeing my son work his butt off to make the JV team as a 8th grader, and actually become a starter...that was something wonderful to watch. Not the result so much as the maturing process.
Then to find out he was never 100%, and he played through nagging pain (not a baseball injury) just made me respect him even more. He definitely knows now that playing with an injury is NOT the smart thing to do. He's worked back and is actually in the best shape of his young life. To see him grow and develop both physically and emotionally? It's been quite an honor.
Baseball has been there the whole time.
Sure my son's baseball journey is really just beginning, and anything could happen. But already I've got memories I'll have forever.
The kid sitting on the front porch when I got home from work...ball bucket ready, his first question "Dad you ready to go hit?"
There are many more that I already have, and many more to come hopefully.
It's raining and the weather is miserable here in Cleveland, and I have some time to write today. Somtimes I feel guilty writing here with over 8,000 posts to my name....
Josh's post was so excellent above, I thought I would try and keep up. He has a wonderful talent for writing. I am proud he is my partner on hsbbweb radio!
My thoughts go to what many of you are wondering and are trying to figure out here - how good is my son and does he have a chance someday to play at the next level whether that be travel ball from rec league, high school ball from travel ball, college ball from high school ball and so forth...
I know looking back and at the present there are many naysayers. Someone always finding fault. Someone is always better. I say baloney to all that. Each kid brings something unique to the game that no other player will ever bring. Encourage kids to be themselves and have fun. Encourage them to play as many positions and sports as they would like for that matter. Time flies so fast...
My son is a position player but he used to pitch. He was a darned good one imho. At about the 11/12 year old level, coaches started using other kids to pitch that were bigger and more physically mature. I felt that was a mistake but as is my style, I kept my mouth shut. Just before my son's last tournament as a 12 year old, I made one request of the team "Win one for me"....
My role on the team developed over the years. I was the team scorekeeper but my role was also to keep order on the bench and to encourage kids. It was getting late in the summer and I was getting overwhelmed trying to work full time, study for the Bar Exam, and help manage a baseball team. Things became too much and just before we were to enter our last tournament, I told the team that I had to focus full-time on my studies and no longer could participate in my role for the final tournament. I told them I loved them as my voice started to crack and hid a tear or two behind my dark sun glasses. My final request to them was go out and "Win one for me!"
While I was studying, I looked forward to my son's report on how the team did each night and of course how he did. The team started off the tournament well but like most tournaments, eventually ended up in the loser's bracket from where they had to fight their way out of. The team scratched and clawed and with a little luck, found their way into the championship game. Well... I had to make an exception... give up a few hours at the books... and make an appearance on the bench for the team's final game that summer....
The tournament was essentially a week long tournament and our so-called ace pitcher had enough rest and was primed to pitch the championship game. After an inning or two, we could tell things were not right. He could not locate his pitches and the ones he did locate were getting hit hard and in some cases over the fence. The kid sobbed when the coach pulled him from the game. Every pitcher on the team was spent fighting their way out of the loser's bracket. The coach had no other choice but to call the one kid who they decided before the season started could no longer pitch at that "level." That kid was my son and he gladly took the ball even though he had been humiliated by that same coach saying he no longer had the "talent" to pitch.
He was brilliant that evening. He threw knee-buckling curve balls and fast balls that were well-located. In short, no more runs were given up in that game and the team, no doubt, went out and "won one for me." It was very emotional and a night I will never forget.
Josh's post was so excellent above, I thought I would try and keep up. He has a wonderful talent for writing. I am proud he is my partner on hsbbweb radio!
My thoughts go to what many of you are wondering and are trying to figure out here - how good is my son and does he have a chance someday to play at the next level whether that be travel ball from rec league, high school ball from travel ball, college ball from high school ball and so forth...
I know looking back and at the present there are many naysayers. Someone always finding fault. Someone is always better. I say baloney to all that. Each kid brings something unique to the game that no other player will ever bring. Encourage kids to be themselves and have fun. Encourage them to play as many positions and sports as they would like for that matter. Time flies so fast...
My son is a position player but he used to pitch. He was a darned good one imho. At about the 11/12 year old level, coaches started using other kids to pitch that were bigger and more physically mature. I felt that was a mistake but as is my style, I kept my mouth shut. Just before my son's last tournament as a 12 year old, I made one request of the team "Win one for me"....
My role on the team developed over the years. I was the team scorekeeper but my role was also to keep order on the bench and to encourage kids. It was getting late in the summer and I was getting overwhelmed trying to work full time, study for the Bar Exam, and help manage a baseball team. Things became too much and just before we were to enter our last tournament, I told the team that I had to focus full-time on my studies and no longer could participate in my role for the final tournament. I told them I loved them as my voice started to crack and hid a tear or two behind my dark sun glasses. My final request to them was go out and "Win one for me!"
While I was studying, I looked forward to my son's report on how the team did each night and of course how he did. The team started off the tournament well but like most tournaments, eventually ended up in the loser's bracket from where they had to fight their way out of. The team scratched and clawed and with a little luck, found their way into the championship game. Well... I had to make an exception... give up a few hours at the books... and make an appearance on the bench for the team's final game that summer....
The tournament was essentially a week long tournament and our so-called ace pitcher had enough rest and was primed to pitch the championship game. After an inning or two, we could tell things were not right. He could not locate his pitches and the ones he did locate were getting hit hard and in some cases over the fence. The kid sobbed when the coach pulled him from the game. Every pitcher on the team was spent fighting their way out of the loser's bracket. The coach had no other choice but to call the one kid who they decided before the season started could no longer pitch at that "level." That kid was my son and he gladly took the ball even though he had been humiliated by that same coach saying he no longer had the "talent" to pitch.
He was brilliant that evening. He threw knee-buckling curve balls and fast balls that were well-located. In short, no more runs were given up in that game and the team, no doubt, went out and "won one for me." It was very emotional and a night I will never forget.
Clevelanddad, 8397 to be exact and I think I have read every one of them. 
biggerpapi, great thread. The Pet Peeve thread became my Pet Peeve. Hate hearing people gripe about small stuff.
Love every one of these posts!!!!
Love every one of these posts!!!!
Big fan of the glance towards the mound, by the hitter, after he K's and is walking back to the dugout
Love this thread. Thanks guys. Josh you made me get a little teary eyed!
Nice to share thoughts on why we love this game so much ...
It is the crack of the bat, a well-executed change up, a line drive, in beautiful crisp fall weather that gets me.
What really gets me is the grin on their faces.... esp in fall ball when they are truly playing for 'the love of the game.'
Nice to share thoughts on why we love this game so much ...
It is the crack of the bat, a well-executed change up, a line drive, in beautiful crisp fall weather that gets me.
What really gets me is the grin on their faces.... esp in fall ball when they are truly playing for 'the love of the game.'
The look on a young players face when he steps up and delivers big time for his team. The look on his face as he walks away after the older guys slap him on the back and say good job.
The feeling you get as a coach when you see a player put it together and have success.
Watching a kid go from a bench guy to a role guy to a everyday guy. Knowing how hard he has worked and how bad he wanted it and then seeing him get it.
Taking a young rising soph to a showcase team tryout and seeing the tears in his eyes when he is told he is not good enough to play for them. Watching that same player pitch in the ALCS.
Getting to know so many great parents this past college season from all over the southeast. Hearing about their children and their journey in this game.
Getting to know people like CD and being able to share in their sons accomplishments in this game. Having someone else to cheer for and follow.
And there are so many more.
The feeling you get as a coach when you see a player put it together and have success.
Watching a kid go from a bench guy to a role guy to a everyday guy. Knowing how hard he has worked and how bad he wanted it and then seeing him get it.
Taking a young rising soph to a showcase team tryout and seeing the tears in his eyes when he is told he is not good enough to play for them. Watching that same player pitch in the ALCS.
Getting to know so many great parents this past college season from all over the southeast. Hearing about their children and their journey in this game.
Getting to know people like CD and being able to share in their sons accomplishments in this game. Having someone else to cheer for and follow.
And there are so many more.
Thanks for starting this topic.
Josh I loved your story.
Josh I loved your story.
The Field:
There is not a more aesthetically pleasing athletic field to the eye than a baseball field. Early morning or late evening an empty baseball field has a church like feel to it where the thoughts of the game played or the game about to be played gives the onlooker a sense of peacefulness.
Then to see the field filled with nine defenders all on point in a battle with the one offensive player in the box attempting to succeed in his goal of striking a 9 inch round ball to a place where it cannot be fielded.
The Work:
Watching and breaking down video with a hitter who is struggling. Having him understand where he is going wrong. Taking that information out to the cage. Working on a correct swing. Seeing the swing come back to the player in the cage and watching the confidence grow as he begins to lace line drives. Having the player step into the box the next game and see him reproduce the swing he just worked on, having it payoff as he loads, lands, staying inside the ball as the hands begin the forward movement and in a split moment the ball jumps off the bat finding the green in the outfield.
The Payoff:
After off season workouts, summer season, fall season, recommending showcases and colleges camps, emails and calling college coaches to find the right home for a player, the player calls you one night and says “Hey coach I am committing to...., Thank You”
There is not a more aesthetically pleasing athletic field to the eye than a baseball field. Early morning or late evening an empty baseball field has a church like feel to it where the thoughts of the game played or the game about to be played gives the onlooker a sense of peacefulness.
Then to see the field filled with nine defenders all on point in a battle with the one offensive player in the box attempting to succeed in his goal of striking a 9 inch round ball to a place where it cannot be fielded.
The Work:
Watching and breaking down video with a hitter who is struggling. Having him understand where he is going wrong. Taking that information out to the cage. Working on a correct swing. Seeing the swing come back to the player in the cage and watching the confidence grow as he begins to lace line drives. Having the player step into the box the next game and see him reproduce the swing he just worked on, having it payoff as he loads, lands, staying inside the ball as the hands begin the forward movement and in a split moment the ball jumps off the bat finding the green in the outfield.
The Payoff:
After off season workouts, summer season, fall season, recommending showcases and colleges camps, emails and calling college coaches to find the right home for a player, the player calls you one night and says “Hey coach I am committing to...., Thank You”
I love baseball so much that I volunteered to keep score and chart pitches for my high school's team. Guess I was a baseball groupie.
When I was pregnant with my son and confined to bed, baseball was my companion. When the doctor said I could get out of bed, the first place I went was to an Astros game a few days before he was born. Got to go to one game before the strike (and his birthday) in 1994.
My son shares my love of baseball. We have a mom/son baseball outing to a MLB game every year, just the two of us. I hope we always will, even if he's wheeling me into the ball park.
When I was pregnant with my son and confined to bed, baseball was my companion. When the doctor said I could get out of bed, the first place I went was to an Astros game a few days before he was born. Got to go to one game before the strike (and his birthday) in 1994.
My son shares my love of baseball. We have a mom/son baseball outing to a MLB game every year, just the two of us. I hope we always will, even if he's wheeling me into the ball park.
My mom grew up in Fayetteville NC about a mile from where Babe Ruth hit his first professional home run. :-) She wasn't supposed to go to these games without her big brothers - it was the 1930's - but she did. I can see the young kids from the mill town, barefoot and in overalls, trying to find a space in the boards or a knot hole to look through. It wasn't until Ken Burns' did I appreciate my grandmother's concern! wow - what a wild and rough bunch baseball players were back then!!!
She loved baseball all her life. She would take the train to DC or Baltimore to watch some games, she even caught a foul ball once! Later, the TV was always on baseball if there was a game on. She had the pleasure of watching a young cousin make it to the mlb and play with Nolen Ryan.
Sadly, she passed away before her ball playing grandson was born. I'm pretty sure though, she's made it to all his games. :-)
She loved baseball all her life. She would take the train to DC or Baltimore to watch some games, she even caught a foul ball once! Later, the TV was always on baseball if there was a game on. She had the pleasure of watching a young cousin make it to the mlb and play with Nolen Ryan.
Sadly, she passed away before her ball playing grandson was born. I'm pretty sure though, she's made it to all his games. :-)
quote:Originally posted by shortnquick:
The Field:
There is not a more aesthetically pleasing athletic field to the eye than a baseball field.
How about that feeling, especially at a Spring Training game, when you walk up the ramp and see the field for the first time?
The post game jog after a great game on the mound with a big smile on your face and little replays flashing in your mind.
The first time you can get on a field when the snow clears and cold doesn't seem to matter.
When your walkup song plays on your first appearance of the year.
When you go to an MLB game and see your heros living your dream with a team cap and jersey on while imagining yourself pitching under the lights.
Playing catch with your dad. I don't know who else appreciates this as a player but I love playing catch with my dad. We joke and talk about baseball then i'll say "watch this" and throw a curveball. We don't even throw hard, it is just who can be the most accurate and it is one of my favorite things with baseball. As josh said, it is truely timeless. I have played catch with my grandpa, my dad, uncles, my cousin and his son. A friend who is in middle school. A friend who is 8. It is passed down and those times you pass it or remember having it passed to you are truely special. thats probably one of my favorite parts of baseball
The first time you can get on a field when the snow clears and cold doesn't seem to matter.
When your walkup song plays on your first appearance of the year.
When you go to an MLB game and see your heros living your dream with a team cap and jersey on while imagining yourself pitching under the lights.
Playing catch with your dad. I don't know who else appreciates this as a player but I love playing catch with my dad. We joke and talk about baseball then i'll say "watch this" and throw a curveball. We don't even throw hard, it is just who can be the most accurate and it is one of my favorite things with baseball. As josh said, it is truely timeless. I have played catch with my grandpa, my dad, uncles, my cousin and his son. A friend who is in middle school. A friend who is 8. It is passed down and those times you pass it or remember having it passed to you are truely special. thats probably one of my favorite parts of baseball
The phrase "having a catch."
quote:Playing catch with your dad. I don't know who else appreciates this as a player but I love playing catch with my dad. We joke and talk about baseball then i'll say "watch this" and throw a curveball. We don't even throw hard, it is just who can be the most accurate and it is one of my favorite things with baseball. As josh said, it is truely timeless. I have played catch with my grandpa, my dad, uncles, my cousin and his son. A friend who is in middle school. A friend who is 8. It is passed down and those times you pass it or remember having it passed to you are truely special. thats probably one of my favorite parts of baseball
So true on all aspects of this quote. I would give everything I own to be able to have a catch with my dad again. Nothing was better than going out in the yard and throwing a baseball with him or a football. He worked in the coal mines and his body was beat all to heck and when I was little he couldn't throw for long periods of time due to pain in his elbow. It used to make me a little mad when he had to quit because of the pain but now that I'm older and wiser I now realize what he was willing to go through to have a catch with me. When I was in college and would drive back to school on Sundays dad made me call home (pre-cell phone days LOL) to let him know I made it. Mom would get so mad because we would sit on the phone and we would be watching the game on ESPN talking about it.
I have a nephew who is three years old. I can't wait to have a catch with him.
In 1998, my mother in law got me and my then 4 year old son matching Mark McGwire Cardinal jerseys. It was right after he hit 70 home runs and I remember watching that with him. Anyway, the next summer, everyday I would get home from work he would be sitting in the family room waiting for me wearing his jersey, white baseball pants, and one of those cheezy batting helmets. He would make me change so we could go outside and play baseball. I would go into my room and on my bed would be my McGwire jersey, a grey pair of sweats I had(closest thing I had to baseball pants) and my Cardinal cap. So, during the hot Missouri summer, I would have to put this on and go in the front yard and pitch batting practice or play catch. Everytime a car would drive by we would stop so the ball wouldnt go near the car, the people would just look at us and probably wonder who the crazy guy in the sweat pants and thick jersey were in the middle of the summer.
A couple years go by and we signed him up to play on a real team. So the nights before his games, he would lay out his uniform in what we would call his "little man" He would lay out his entire uniform, cleats, socks, pants, jersey, and cap. Then put his glove on the right side of the man where his right hand would be. Did this for about two years until I guess he outgrew it. Flashforward to his freshman year. He made the JV team. So the night before his first game, I went into his room for some reason, and on the floor of my 15 year old son's bedroom was his "little man" with his high school JV baseball uniform. glove and all. He was sitting on his bed and just looked at me like it was normal. I guess it is for him.
A couple years go by and we signed him up to play on a real team. So the nights before his games, he would lay out his uniform in what we would call his "little man" He would lay out his entire uniform, cleats, socks, pants, jersey, and cap. Then put his glove on the right side of the man where his right hand would be. Did this for about two years until I guess he outgrew it. Flashforward to his freshman year. He made the JV team. So the night before his first game, I went into his room for some reason, and on the floor of my 15 year old son's bedroom was his "little man" with his high school JV baseball uniform. glove and all. He was sitting on his bed and just looked at me like it was normal. I guess it is for him.
Charlie Brown:
Mizzoubaseball awesome story that made me choke up reading it. You will never forget that. And more importantly neither will he.
quote:Originally posted by Coach_May:
Mizzoubaseball awesome story that made me choke up reading it. You will never forget that. And more importantly neither will he.
Coach, payback for all the times you have choked me up on this site. Yes, it is things like this you never forget.
Biggerpapi, thanks for this gift of a thread. I've enjoyed reading all of the contributions.
This year I gave my 2 1/2 year old grandson his first baseball glove. We took him to several of my son's games. The little guy sat in his miniture folding chair completely entranced, even when his uncle wasn't on the field. He barely moved, and we talked about what a pitcher does and what a catcher does. I was in heaven.
Mizzou, thanks for the Christmas gift idea. My grandson and his father (my son in law) may just get those matching Astros shirts this year.
This year I gave my 2 1/2 year old grandson his first baseball glove. We took him to several of my son's games. The little guy sat in his miniture folding chair completely entranced, even when his uncle wasn't on the field. He barely moved, and we talked about what a pitcher does and what a catcher does. I was in heaven.
Mizzou, thanks for the Christmas gift idea. My grandson and his father (my son in law) may just get those matching Astros shirts this year.
We were down to visit my son for the first time a few weeks ago for a parents weekend and we were walking by the baseball field on campus and he introduced me to another freshmen teammate who was walking off the field with his dad who was also down visiting and they both had gloves. His dad was slowed a bit, and my son told me later that he had some type of degenerative disease and was getting much slower now. I thought about how great it must have been to be out on the college baseball field just throwing with his son and all of the memories they probably had over the years. I was tearing up walking across the campus as my son was telling me the story and wondering how many more times they will share on the field together. There is no better time between a son and his dad; two gloves, one ball, green grass. Precious.
quote:Originally posted by BOF:
We were down to visit my son for the first time a few weeks ago for a parents weekend and we were walking by the baseball field on campus and he introduced me to another freshmen teammate who was walking off the field with his dad who was also down visiting and they both had gloves. His dad was slowed a bit, and my son told me later that he had some type of degenerative disease and was getting much slower now. I thought about how great it must have been to be out on the college baseball field just throwing with his son and all of the memories they probably had over the years. I was tearing up walking across the campus as my son was telling me the story and wondering how many more times they will share on the field together. There is no better time between a son and his dad; two gloves, one ball, green grass. Precious.
WOW... speechless... GED10DaD
Josh, thanks for the story. We're setting up in 2012 occasions where some of our summer players can go visit a home for the elderly and some Saturday morning "Shoot the breeze" breakfasts, just so conversations like that can happen.
Great story!
H-1
Great story!
H-1