WHAT FUELS THE FIRE !

Hope I'm not committing baseball web poster suicide here.....but it's just my son's love of the game that keeps me going.....if he had taken up piano with the same passion he took up baseball....then I'd be at every concert....cheering, supportive....

Got to admit....think I've enjoyed the baseball games more than I would have music concerts....but....you never know.....

Memories are one key to the fire. How I played in high school. How hard I worked in college to discover that I wasnt' any good. How hard it was to accept that day when I no longer could compete up to my standards. The fun of playing catch with someone. The one on one challenge of the batter v pitcher. Catching that sinking liner that you know you are diving for and somehow you extend and catch it. THE DEVESTATION OF A LOSS. The thrill of vicory. FOR ME NOW, IT IS TO SEE THESE AND MANY OTHER THINGS IN MY PLAYER'S EYES. WHAT IS THAT THEY SAY ABOUT A PICTURE WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS. THAT IS WHAT I SEE IN THEM.

Simple... It's the greatest game on earth! I can't drive by a baseball game without stopping. It doesn't matter the level. I LOVE BASEBALL!!

Perhaps it's the GIRLS in the stands!!

edit -- oops, there I go, not reading the full question again.........

So, for me? Honestly, it is to see if my son can get into a college program and have a ready-made family to go to when he leaves us to go eight-to-eleven-thousand miles away from us....that is what fuels my fire. A good hotdog, shot just-so out of a hot-dog shooter and into my lanolin-soft hands, doesn't hurt either.

I would have to say the same as Calloway. The fact that my son plays is what led me to watch the sport and learn the game. I obviously love watching him play, however I love to watch anyone play. I love hearing the success stories of all of the kids here. I'll continue to go watch highschool games here after he's gone to college. Love the game!!

The game itself and everything about it. The smell of the grass and the dirt. The other people that are there because they just love the game. The competition. The kids that play with a passion for the game. I just love baseball. Im like the others that have posted I dont have to know anyone that is playing or what level it is. I love to watch the game.

I am bleeping bleep-bleep years old. I have the ball in my hand, pitching batting practice to my 21-year-old, this coming moments after throwing a few to my 7-year-old. He was smiling; the older one isn't.

Neither am I. He's going to remember my good old days. I know he needs to work on staying with pitches on the outside half of the plate. I'm going to work him away, away and then bust him inside.

Now he's ticked. I own him now. Cut the fastball in, slow and slower away. He wants to feel good about batting practice. Well, learn the lesson first.

If he hits two hard, the third one is in his ribs. After all, I throw neither hard, nor accurately anymore. So he keeps telling me.

Wrong answer.

What fuels the fire? What do you think?

I was raised up around it, my dad was the second baseman in HS, of course I wasn't around to see him play but loved to hear him tell stories about growing up in rural Virginia and every day after all the farm work was done, all the local boys would gather on the make shift baseball field and play til dark.

Then as a kid in the 60's playing the game and my dad had two brothers working for him who were outstanding baseball players in our town, one went onto play in the minors for NY and the other was drafted out of HS and went to the Orioles and played for a long time in the majors for several teams and is still a pro-scout today.

After the one who played in the minors came back home he returned to work for dad and often they would stop work and actually go out in the parking lot and he would pitch and a crowd would gather to watch. As a kid I thought that was so neat.

The other brother who went to the majors never forgot where he came from and at home games in the old Memorial Stadium in Baltimore there would always be tickets waiting for us.

So, I guess as a Kid I was raised up with baseball and I developed a love for the game, played it and then my son was blessed with a pretty good arm and decent swing and well then came the HSBBW and with advice from here and playing for some good summer teams the past couple of years, things started to fall into place for him and this fall he will leave home to start his college career.

I've coached for about 12 years and 5 years ago we formed an organization which started as 16-U and the past couple of years we've been 18-U and we've been fortunate to have about 20 former players go on to play college baseball.

It has been rewarding to watch these kids grow up into fine young men and do so well.

Anyone who coaches knows that's what it's all about, the kids.

CV

GOSH.... It's been a very emotional day, and now this question....
I'll back up- just returned from Indy- son's Conference tournament and the stakes were a bid to the NCAA road.They are coming home Champions tonite.
I have followed this kid on his journey from HS to a wrong D1 choice, back to a JUCO, and then to being the offensive leader of an up and coming D1 team.
Didn't sleep much last nite, knowing what was at stake for our team. Then today, I bit my nails, cheered, cried, fought back losing breakfast, changed seats three different times, and then watched my son hit the tieing and go ahead RBI's! Doesn't get much better than that!
What keeps me going back?
To see:
His fearless approach to the plate-
His jaw settling as he sizes up the opposing pitcher-
His undying loyalty to his teamates-
His hope when there is little-
His fight to the very end-
His ability to graciously accept both failure and victories-
His ability to know his limits and still PUSH on-
The sheer joy of watching HIS joy-
And of course his glance up to the stands.....

I have watched this kid evolve into a true man and leader, and this game has been a wonderful venue to see both.Today is a good day and I am proud. I love you, son.

I loved you but I let you down
replaced with an oath
a cap and a gown.
Yet when I felt beaten
clear into the ground
you were waiting for me;
green grass, white lines, sweet sounds.

It is my boys' passion that has led me here. I think they both had it very early on, throwing balls overhand at 2 years old or so.

Since you are asking "for me", it is the friendships I have made, the trips, hotel nites... IS THE COFFEE READY? (inside joke, Sara I hope you still read this site even if you don't post)

What fuels the fire? Friends. Friends here, friends I have yet to meet due to this great game. Friends I have since T-ball days, I just got a new home loan from one. Another friend helped Eric get into the classes he wanted for the summer. Another helped Ryan get his MRI schduled quicker. FRIENDS

Last nite, Ryan, my 21 yr old was hit by a drunk driver. Thank goodness his mustang was in the shop and he was driving his dad's crew cab pickup truck. Ryan was the Desiginated Driver, and had dropped off his last passenger about 10 minutes before being T-Boned on a 5 lane highway. I am way off schedule as we were up from 1am till 3 something. He is sore, but ok we believe.

I love the game, I love to watch, and prefer to watch alone, otherwise I talk and miss, but I love the people I have met and again, those I have yet to meet.

02^04 Mom,

Thank God he's ok !

CV

You know some of the things I remember the most are the tournements out of town and the time at the Motels. Coming down to breakfast and seeing all those kids from all over in their different uniforms. Meeting so many people from all over that shared the same hopes and dreams and love of the game. Meeting and talking to so many young kids that were so excited about playing that game today. Then seeing them at the ballpark all weekend and end up at some point and time cheering for their kid to get a hit or get some one out. Then realizing that just a few hours ago I had never met them before in my life. My youngest is 15 and now I am seeing some of those same people and their sons at High School games and now on summer teams. Its just a great circle of people that become friends in the game. My son is playing on an 18 under showcase team this summer. Today they played a DH. I saw so many older kids and parents that I met years ago. They are great people. The memories are priceless and the friends that you make last a lifetime.

For me it started as a youth--I have mentioned before that my Granddads best buddy in work and fishing was a gentleman who pitched in the bigs for a few years before the 1929 "crash" and was 3-0 career wise-- this to this day entralls me--I knew and undefeated major league pitcher and even fished with he and gramps a few times

Then there is my dad --he was a semipro catcher and taught how to play the game and how to respect the game--sadly he has been sick for a number of years and not been able to see fully what he developed in me.

There there are my boys who played ball-- I even left the Pro Bass Fishing circuit in the Northeast to be involved in LL because baseball was better than fishing -- baseball and my sons , how great is that ?

There there is coaching the young boys and watching them become young men- from LL thru HS and watching their careers in college--it is particularly so when you have coached a boy in LL for three years--he goes on to HS and I moved from the area--5 years later he returns to pitch for travel team and pitches us to a tournament chgampionship and then gets named Freshman All American in college

I guess it is all of these factors that has kept me going-- now being involved with showcases and a travel team with great coaches on my staff it gets even better--they are great people as well as great baseball coaches--the kids are great--the parents are great (for the most part, lol) and last but certainly not least is my wife who allows me to follow my passion and have fun doing it

The fire started as a young boy and at 63 years of age has never burned brighter.

Thanks Tom, Strange how varied the responses. What fuels the fire for me? It has changed over the years. First as a kid it was the actual game itself. I had no goals or dreams of excelling at the game...it was just “fun” to play. Before I was a teenager I became aware with the aura around the game...the smell of the concession stand and the smell of leather. The sound a baseball makes when it hits the well formed pocket of a mitt and the always exciting “crack” of the wood bat. But the lure of the game or the aura that surround it was not strong enough to keep me on the diamond or even keep me in the stands. While my mind did drift back to younger days, the responsibilities of manhood never gave way to my childhood pleasures…until I turned 40....my second son was born. A ball to him was much more than just a round object. He could make it do intriguing things, like roll across the floor...but to make it really enjoyable, someone has to roll it back. I entered the third level of “what fuels the fire”. His obsession of a ball, of any ball, any shape or size, consumed his every moment, and I was his playmate, his fan, and I guess in some stretch of one’s imagination...his coach. The little white baseball was his love. You can do so much more with a baseball than any other ball. You can backhand it, scoop it, bloop it, smack it, curve it, slide it, you can even slurve it. It became his ever-present companion.
We developed a bond over the next 10 years with the baseball being the catalyst. As he became a “real” ballplayer, I had to step out of the coach’s box and at that point I entered another phase of “what fuels the fire”. I became his supporter and his advisor. He had to make choices and he wanted my help...college or pro. I advised him of his options and made some suggestions. After he was drafted I negotiated with the Cardinals and he opted for college. His college is over and he hopes to enter professional baseball in a few weeks. He currently has an agent and he has numerous coaches and he has lots of friends to talk to. I really don’t have any responsibilities except just being his dad. Who could have thought that a little white ball that I picked up 60 years ago, passed on to my son 20 years ago, could have fueled a fire that has burned as long as it has?
Fungo

Wonderful posts everyone! Funny you mention fishing Tr. It seems there is a relationship between fishing and baseball. I think it is that when you are caught up in either activity, time stands still. A fisherman does not have to catch any fish to enjoy being out on the beautiful water - although he/she loves the thrill of the catch. Likewise, baseball people still enjoy the game even though the outcome doesn't always go their way. Amazing how many baseball players love to fish. Ted Williams is a great one who immediately comes to mind.

To all military people and families out there that have served our fine nation - some paying the ultimate price, you have my utmost respect, prayers, and thoughts today. There are more important things than baseball and today is in honor of you! Thank you with all of my heart!!!! Have a wonderful Memorial Day everyone!

Great posts!
Fungo, It is very interesting the varied responses. However, yours brought back some memories for me and made me do some thinking. How can you raise a child with that level of passion and not develop a fire for the game? My son grew up having a baseball in his hand - in the car, watching TV, coming to the dinner table. I have painted over more scuff marks on walls and ceilings than I can ever remember. Replaced one bedroom window when he was around eight and practicing his swing indoors!......... It's definately a fire that he started for me.

Cleveland Dad - nice reminder and I echo your sentiments. Have a great holiday everyone!

What fuels the fire...when DK gets behind in the count and Mr. TPM goes BONKERS!

Now I am sure you ALL can relate to that!

My sons are young so watching them learn and get better at the game is so exciting. My oldest's dream (he's 11), is to play college and of course pro (he's going to Stanford, you know and then off to play for the Yankees . Reading all the wonderful posts and hearing about everyone's sons and their successes gets us excited and allows him to see what it takes for his dreams to come true. When I see his passion at a young age, it fuels my fire to help him be the best he can be. Thanks to all of you, the fire is burning hotter than ever!

Nothing is greater than the feeling I get looking out onto the field during the National Anthem. The lights are twinkling, the field is perfect, the flag is blowing in the outfield and the kids are lined up ready to play. There is a quiet reverence that is only felt here and at this time. The Star Spangled Banner is justs long enough to appreciate the players, the coaches, umps, fans, opponents, friends and family, but most of all, those that are fighting to make this all possible. God Bless our Troops and God Bless baseball.

Lafmom,

You juggled some cobwebs loose with the window incident.

Mine when he was about 6 I think decided to use the side of our house as a backstop, I had to replace several rows of the siding and oh yes when around 10 he hit a ball through the windshield of my police cruiser while parked at the house.

CV

TR,

What a great thread you started, and it's fun to read everyone's responses and memories.

My "fire" for the game is a mix of what arizonared first bravely posted
"just my son's love of the game that keeps me going ... if he had taken up piano with the same passion he took up baseball ... then I'd be at every concert..." (I have one son passionate about baseball and one who feels that way about music, so I know that's true) - and the theme that runs through many of the other posts: I grew up watching baseball, played the closest thing to it that women were allowed to play (fastpitch) thru college, and just love to sit and watch a baseball game - any baseball game - discuss baseball with friends or strangers, read about baseball, watch videos about baseball, watch re-runs of classic MLB games on ESPN. It really is the greatest game in the world.

A combination of old and new:

1. A long time love of baseball, listening to static-filled radio stations, with magic marker lines on the plastic radio dial to show where I could best pick up a signal to hear my Giants and my main man Mr. Mays play a team actually in listening range. The passion faded during my college football years when football jumped to the forefront but when my first son got into T ball, the flames re-ignited.

2. Seeing looks of pure unadulterated joy on my sons' faces while in the game. One moment for my oldest wasn't even actually on the playing field: August, 2002, Blue-Grey Classic at William and Mary, as he came off the field, the late evening setting August sun put a filtered light on the guys and his baseball-tanned face was just lit up as he yapped and laughed with the other guys as they ran off. Just a look of pure joy, not a care in the world, other than "when do I bat?"

3. Seeing my youngest trying hard to not grin from ear to ear after pulling off a defensive play at shortstop, with a couple buddies running in yapping "Web Gem Baby!"

Just Kodak moments in my mind, but they'll stoke that fire for years to come...at least until the grandsons arrive (which had better be a good many years).

What fuels the fire of the love of the game? What fuels the fire to continue to breathe? It's a s natural as that.

I was born in St. Louis. In St. Louis, if you don't love baseball, they actually take away your right to vote. (Or at least move away from you on the Group W bench.)

My Dad was a ballplayer -- unsuccessful at his pro tryouts, but he did play in the service league alongside the pros throughout WWII.

My Mom's roommate in the hospital when I was born was Mrs. Jim Delsing, her husband was an OF for the Browns. (Delsing is the answer to a great trivia question -- who pinch ran for Eddie Gaedel?) My first pro game was 11 days later.....a Brown's 4th of July doubleheader (talk about baptism by fire!)

My Dad taught me to keep score before I entered kindergarden. I fell in love with Wally Moon and his style of play and had my first feeling of baseball betrayal when he was traded when I was 6. (Wally wasn't too happy about it either.)

I slept out on the sidewalk for WS tickets in the sixties, suffered through the 70's, had enough connections to get the good tickets into the 80's, and cut work for Opening Days. (You wouldn't believe the number of grandmothers who have funerals on Opening Day in STL.)

When I moved to England, I'd listen to games on the Armed Forces Network....games that started at 1am local time. AFN doesn't broadcast to England, the station came out of Germany and was perilously close to a Spanish Opera station....made for some interesting listening.

When my son was born, his presents from US friends included Cardinals, Padres, BoSox, Dodgers, and (horrors!) Cubs uniforms. He attended his first game at nine months, thus fulfilling my standard that to qualify as a "lifelong fan" you have to be carried in to your first game. (That's a needle to all the folks 'round here I've run into who became "lifelong" Braves fans in 1991. )

When he was 4, I found a t-ball team at a nearby Air Force base. And then we moved to Florida....not specifically for baseball, but that's pretty much the way it turned out.

I guess my son got his love of the game genetically, as the fire in him burns brightly.

It is the Perfect Game --- athleticism and intellect, action and time to reflect, individual achievement and teamwork, brute force and life lessons, the unfairness of screaming line drives caught and the quintessental fairness of 27 outs per side. But everyone here knows all that!

Classic posts are being put up here today. Please keep them rolling. These stories are priceless and I for one am loving it!

when I was a kid, there really was no other game given much thought to. There was no AYSO (thank goodness ), the NFL was still a sideshow, the NBA had yet to come to LA and hockey .

The Dodgers moved to LA when I was 6 and I can still remember going to my first game that season against the Braves and seeing all those baseball cards come to life on that giant greener than green grass field at the LA Coliseum.

In those early years the Dodgers only televised their away games at San Francisco and the whole neighborhood got together to watch Koufax, Drysdale, Podres, Wills, Gilliam etc. battle the hated Giants.

With the weather here, we played baseball from about February 1 to the end of October. In November we'd follow a little college football, December was 1 big holiday and then we counted the days in January for baseball to start again.

My childhood (which I guess will never end) was baseball and I guess it rubbed off a little on my kids

Now, while our daughter "hung up her cleats", she is a manager and scorekeeper for her HS baseball team and our son is playing in college and my wife is quite the baseball fan. Baseball is a bond we have always had and I hope will always share. What could be better...

Great thread

I have some time today, so here’s my version if anyone is interested.

For me, I had no choice. My father was a baseball player, grandfather was a baseball player and I grew up in a neighborhood where everyone played baseball “every” day. As a youngster I really thought baseball was the single most important thing in life.

The smell of the new glove (of course every little kid would take it to bed and sleep with it) wouldn’t they? The first pair of cleats, the first night game, the first homerun, the first championship, the many coaches, the many life long friends, even the devastating (at the time) losses. All filed away in the memory bank.

Trying to remember if we ever stopped to eat! Morning till night baseball of one kind or another. When you weren’t playing it, you were talking about it. Those were the days!

Thank you Willie Mays… You’ll never know how much I admired you! I “always” used the Willie Mays model Adirondick (SP?) even though to be honest, the other models felt much better, I could only hit with the Willie Mays model. I think the thought was, I was actually him.

Baseball never allowed me to think there was more than one race. Others did have that problem. They would say things like Willie Mays is a black (except they didn't use the word "black"). Even then I thought these people are really stupid. It was only later that I understood what Jackie Robinson accomplished.

As time went on and things became more organized, I loved it even more. I wanted to know everything there was to know about the game. The history, the records, the rules, the fundamentals, the techniques, the strategy, etc. I became a baseball student as a young man and to this day I remain a baseball student.

It had an adverse affect on school, spent all my time studying baseball and had no time for incidental things like MATH, SCIENCE, HISTORY, ENGLISH and so forth. Found myself ineligible one year in high school. If only one of the courses could have been Baseball I would have been tops in the class. It (being ineligible) caused me to become a much better student. Thanks again baseball!

Played in college, failed at pro ball, still loved the game. Coached, scouted, taught the game to anyone who would listen. Even taught some kids the wrong stuff, as I later learned new and better ways to do things.

Then came along three sons and a daughter. Never pushed the sons a bit, but remember buying them baseball gloves when they were one year old. Actually I think I might have bought one of those cheap little tiny gloves and slipped it into their crib.

They took to the game like ants to sugar. While young, the oldest was not the best athlete, the second was a girl and very athletic, the third was outstanding (ended up signing with the Cincinnati Reds), the youngest was like the first (not very athletic) so I thought.

The youngest went from being an average high school pitcher in Iowa, to pitching in the Major Leagues at 22 years old. I love them all and am very proud of all.

All the years I had spent playing, coaching, scouting and studying baseball and to think I now had a son playing in the Big Leagues. I was one of some 50,000 fans at his first major league game.

When I saw him (first on the Big Screen) entering the game, I just about broke down and had to choke back the tears. It was one of the most emotional times in my life and I’ve never been very emotional (so my wife of now 38 years says). We got married at a very young age.

Now days I have the privilege of helping other young men who have the same passion and love for the game I had years ago. Maybe other fathers can be as lucky as I’ve been. Most kids will not play in the Big Leagues, but every kid and father and mother can experience "big moments" that will last a lifetime.

Every day I thank my lucky stars that I’ve been so blessed by this great game. The Lord willing, my baseball education will continue till my last dying breath. I love this game!

And still… The one thing I've learned more than anything else is... There are more important things in life than baseball.

I was raised by my Grandparents who were big time Dodger fans. Of course by the time I was 7yo I was rooting for the Angels back when they really were the Los Angeles Angels. I was one of the first "junior Angels". Now my son is a true blue Dodger fan. What goes around comes around.

My grandmother would pitch to me in the back yard with a plastic ball and bat when I was little. Later on my grandfather would catch for me in the driveway well past the point where my fastball was too fast for him to catch safely.

Like all the kids I dreamed of making it to the bigs, but although I played a lot I really didn't work hard enough at it. I was only 16 when I graduated from HS and with only a bit above average ability didn't play much in HS, not making varsity until I was 16.

I was fortunate enough to be mistaken for another pitcher from our school with the same first name who was a legitimate prospect and was able to catch on with an Angels' scout team when I was 16 so my being young in HS really had no impact as I got to throw in front of a lot of scouts at times. I was 17 when two of the Lachemann brothers came out to check the pitchers and it was then that I realized I didn't have what it took. They watched me throw a pen and a lefty who threw fairly hard but was wild throw a pen and they were only interested in him. The next time I threw a pen for them I concentrated on velocity and got mild interest at best. I joined the service hoping to play ball in the service and that wasn't to be so I took up tennis and ended up playing JC tennis and 1 year of limited play for a D1 school but my real love was baseball and fortunately my son has that same love for the game despite having an overbearing dad who expects perfection. Now I just want him to be able to pursue his dream as far as he possibly can, regardless of how far that is and practicing and playing long toss with him is the most fulfilling part of my life. At times I almost resent coaching his teams because it takes away from our 1 on 1 time together playing ball.

Orlando, I loved this part:

quote:

...and cut work for Opening Days. (You wouldn't believe the number of grandmothers who have funerals on Opening Day in STL.)

Like some others, I have the memory of a baseball glove at a young age, but in our case, it was my husband bringing a real leather Wilson glove (the smallest he could find), to the hospital and placing it in the bassinet with our little ballplayer.

quote:

Baseball never allowed me to think there was more than one race. Others did have that problem. They would say things like Willie Mays is a black (except they didn't use the word "black"). Even then I thought these people are really stupid. It was only later that I understood what Jackie Robinson accomplished.

I grew up in the 50's and my hero back then (and now) is the greatest baseball player to ever play the game.

Henry Aaron
(Don't bother arguing, you'll have more luck with a brick wall)

So it never occurred to me that I wasn't suppose to like him because of his color. Now that I am older (OK Much Older) I look back at that time and remember some of the comments my parents would make and just cringe at the thought.

Heck, maybe sports will be what finally gets us over that hurdle.

I'm going to post one more time on this thread, so please forgive me. My son played his last highschool game tonight. We were in playoffs and lost. Driving the 45 minute drive home, I thought about this question.

Our boys cried and hugged after the loss. It wasn't about the loss. My son talked on the way home about his coaches and what they've meant to him. He talked about how quickly the years have gone. He talked about the one player that has joined the marines and that he worries for his safety. He talked about how much he loves the game and how badly he feels for those that will never play again. I watched a dad who's 6'4" hug my son and cry tears with him and tell him "It's just beginning". I had a younger player come up to me and tell me he loves me as he gives me a hug. Those are all things that fuel my fire. The kids, the emotions, the friendships. Those are all things that are a part of baseball I believe.

I told a friend of mine last night that if we lost, it didn't really matter because it has been the greatest ride I could have ever imagined. Wasn't sure if I really meant it - tonight I can tell you I did.

I'm proud of "my boys". Great young men that have all touched my life with blessings so numerous. I'm proud of my son who loves the game, but loves his friends and coaches even more.

what fuels the fire.......

Time worn, aging yellow newspaper clippings and photos of my father, a tough shortstop whose baseball career and subsequent life would be totally changed by a world war.......

a undistinguished but wonderful youth career full of baseball, woolen uniforms on hot summer days all wishing I was as good as my brother.....

I was, and to this day, I remain, the worst back-up catcher on my teams.....

The first date with my wife.........The Pirates lost to the Astros 7-2.....they lost.......I won....

A fine young son......born on July 16, 1986.....and named after my father.......

His love of the game, his passion for learning and doing it "right".......his Pinto team...his Bronco team, His PONY team, his colt team, His American legion team.........His college team.....

A daughter........of whom, I am so proud..

Umpiring.......where I found where I can make a difference.....

The players........whether they are 8, or 18.......or 22......

One player, one young man, who haunts my dreams......and brings tears to my eyes......when will I ever stop searching for you?

Standing at home plate.....with my partners..while the national anthem is being played.......

this exchange:

Excuse me, Mr. Wilkerson.......but you dont remember me........but you were my umpire when I was 12 years old.......My son played shortstop tonight.....

Of course I remember you.......you were a fine player......and you have a fine player for a son........its good to see you again...

Hey blue!!

there is so much more fuel for my fire.......coming....god willing.......

BigWI,
When my son was about 8 or 9yo, Hank Aaron was signing autographs at a local mall. We were pretty close to the last people in line and they had gone past the allotted time. My son got his ball signed although I was worried they might just shut things down. You could see the staff was ready to get out of there. We got the ball signed for my son and were ready to take off when Mr. Aaron stopped us and had them take a polaroid of him shaking my son's hand. I really thought that was a class act from a class person coming at the end of what must have been a long day.

If you played baseball as a kid, you will love baseball for ever. But watching your son playing it is a very special situation. For us, that did played the game, is like be playing our self ( we swing, we throw,etc), for those that never played, they become experts, coaches, umpires. What a great filling. I am sorry for those that have not had this experience on their lives.

My FIRST inclination is to think that ANY interest of my son's would fuel my fire. BUT, I think back on ALL the sports he has played and I certainly didn't feel "fire burning" for me in many of those. Actually, I hated a few of those sports.....WRESTLING!!! UGH from a mom's perspective. I have to admit that I also have a passion for my daughter's sport...swimming. They both have, for me, the perfect combination of individualism and teamwork that makes it interesting for me. Altho, given the choice, I'd much rather be sitting outside at the ballpark than in a hot and humid natatorium . What I have found throughout the years of being involved in baseball, and what has drawn me into the sport more.....is how such a simple concept of "hit the ball with the stick and run to the base" is in reality such a cerebral sport. I am constantly amazed at how my son is really a "student" of the game and the amount of "thinking" that actually goes on out there in his mind. I can't say he approached EVERY sport he played in that way throughout the years. I can't even say he approached every CLASS throughout the years with the same intensity. Because he is constantly learning, constantly working out, constantly trying to improve....it results in fueling the fire in ME as well as my son. Also...the parents and families of baseball players (for the most part ) are the BEST!

quote:

Originally posted by CADad:
BigWI,
When my son was about 8 or 9yo, Hank Aaron was signing autographs at a local mall. We were pretty close to the last people in line and they had gone past the allotted time. My son got his ball signed although I was worried they might just shut things down. You could see the staff was ready to get out of there. We got the ball signed for my son and were ready to take off when Mr. Aaron stopped us and had them take a polaroid of him shaking my son's hand. I really thought that was a class act from a class person coming at the end of what must have been a long day.

The few dealings I had with Henry Aaron were always class. If he said he was going to do something, it got done. If he said he was going to be somewhere, he was there.

I think that players from that era knew what the fans meant to the game. They didn't have big TV contract then so it was ticket sales that paid thier salaries. So I think IN GENERAL they appreciate the fans more then SOME of todays players.

Granted I am painting with a board brush and I don't mean to make heros out of players from the 50's-60's and villians out of todays players But I think as a generality it is true.

May I add another aspect from the coaches perspective--this is also what keeps it burning for me

When a Dad of young man you coached in LL for three years and then played for you on the travel team a few years later lets you knowthe boy will be playing in NECBL in your own town .

In fact next week in their second game of the summer season they will playing the Vermont team which has a number of our old travel team and showcase players on their roster.

Talk about feeding the fire !!!!

For me there is no specific "thing". My son plays SS and my heart stops every time he gets a line drive, or attempts a double play, or occassionally gets horizontal for that "poster-perfect" picture. It's the summer season, the sun, the concession stands, the crowds...the smells, the excitement. Personally, I can't explain it in just one subject.