Sit Back and Smell The Roses

I know who you are, sitting in your beach chairs, off to the side, beyond the center field fences, the parents of little boys and girls, just watching them play.

It doesn’t matter what the sport is, just being able to relax and view their experience is a joy. I remember watching all four of my boys play LL and BR, high school varsity baseball, track and football from afar, albeit, not alone. A few other duos joined my wife and I to watch, not criticize, berate or complain.

It remains a mystery to me why some spectators (parents) need to be so close to the action. It’s a different perspective from a distance.

Let’s go back to last years playoff baseball games. It’s not hard to replay the mental tape. Just press ‘replay’.

We, as a family, woke up much to early on the ‘big day’, took our showers, made breakfast and had a pre game prep talk to our boys and girls. Most of which fell onto deaf ears, and I now know why!

My son once asked me, “Why is this game is any different then yesterdays game? That made me think. Yesterdays game with Bobby’s team involved players that my son is friends with, shared classes, lunchroom antics and overnighters. I told him not to get so anxious, his new opponents are just like us, they probably have brothers and sisters, had just about the same thing for breakfast, fought over who would take the first shower and who had to walk the family dog. Oh, that was an ongoing dispute in our house. Since the games for the tournament were held on our cape fields, the main difference between us and the other teams is that they had to drive. I remember a series with teams from as far away as Milton, Marblehead and Worchester. So they did the same things as us but much earlier.

It always made me laugh when the baseball was hit; every player on our team went scrambling for it. None of the position players was where they were supposed to be, it reminded me of swarming bunch of kids. The most memorable scene I noticed was that they were all laughing their heads off, not giving a care in the world for winning the game, but just having fun. Needless to say our team lost the tournament and all of my son’s friends and teamates came over after the game and we had a pizza party. I can’t figure out how they could eat 6 pizzas after eating all those burgers and dogs from the ceaselessly well manned snack bar.

BTW, to all those parents that work the snack bars around the world every day and every weekend, there is a special place in heaven for you.

Best Memories,

D