Opening Day!

It was snowing, and dreary, and and a not so funny April Fools trick that it did not feel one bit like spring nor baseball season.  But, still, it was opening day for the beloved Phils and, despite it feeling a bit like game 5 of the 2008 World Series, we were geared up and ready to watch our ACE, Roy Halladay, begin our undefeated season!!!!

PS:  Yes, we won the season opener.  No, we are not undefeated nor did we really think we would be.  But we are hopeful for a long OCTOBER baseball!!

Trophied!

Back in September the boys started a baseball clinic.  I was so excited for the start of what I hoped would become a long career of baseball leagues.  I was, as I know now, much more excited than them.

This clinic, which ran on Sunday mornings, was for 4-6 year olds.  First, there is a big difference, athletically, in such an age range.  Secondly, baseball is very boring.  Especially when you don't really know how to play the game.  Four year olds throwing the ball this way and that can make even this baseball mom watch the clock.
So, for 12 long weeks we played 1.5 hours of very looooonnnnngggg baseball.   Chase was into it.  Sort of.  He showed improvement over the weeks as he started to swing with much more confidence and seemed to begin to grasp the basic fundamentals, always standing with hands on knees in the field.   Ryder, on the other hand, was bored to death.  He has a decent swing and, sure, he loved hitting the ball, and often felt a lot of pride when he would belt one up the middle.  But, mostly, there was not enough action for him, and being indoors, no dandelions to pull.  He would start off ok, never complain about going or try to get out of it, but halfway through every game he would attempt to find his way onto the sidelines.  "My knee hurts."  "My foot hurts."  "My ankle hurts."  "My hand hurts."  His common reason for these ailments..."It's just too long, mommy!"  Who could blame him?  He was right.

Last week was the last week of the season.   All of the teams got trophies, the one and only thing that kept Ryder on the "field" until the end.  By the smiles in this picture I am ready to sign them both up for next year.  Maybe, just maybe, here are Council Rock South's future varsity lettermen.

Let's Play Ball!

You'd think, by my level of excitement, that it was me getting out there today.  That I was about to take the field for the big game.  That I was journeying down, what could be, the long, fun path of little league.

Chase and Ryder are beginning baseball today.  It is not even little league, nor tee-ball, it is just an indoor baseball clinic for 4-6 year olds, and I am so excited.  I hope they are.  I have dreamt of little leaguer sons, travel teams, dirty uniforms.  Yes, it is no lie that I have hoped that one, if not three,  of my boys would be baseball players and I would be a baseball mom.  Today is the first step.  Chase and Ryder seem excited, in the same way they are excited for everything in their four year old world. But, me, I am excited and nervous at the same time.  I want them to be great ball players, but I promise to be OK with it if they are not.  Oh No!! I do not want to be the over-bearing, sport obsessed parent.  I do not want to expect more than they can give.  I do not want to forget that they are 4 and not 14, that this is their first time playing, and that at least one of their levels of focus is far from where it needs to be.  No, I do not want to forget these things, but I am not promising anything.

May this be the start of a long childhood of baseball.

My 3 Favorite B's!

My 3 Favorite B's. Boys playing Baseball on the Beach.....does it get any better?

Baseball Mom

I started playing softball when I was 7 years old.  My very best friend in my seven year old world, Alyssa, convinced me to play the game much to the satisfaction of my athletic father.  Our team wore golden yellow uniform t-shirts, with BRONCOS written in Black.  My jersey number was 11, the first of only two times I ever wore a number other than 8.  I do not remember anything else about my first year of ball other than these details, but it was the beginning of the11 year stint of my softball career.

I have tons of memories of playing ball, most fond, though not all.  When I was ten, I started playing 12-under travel ball.  My coaches were a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. McCue, and they became the fundamental molders of my skills.  The basics, the knowledge, the foundation...and a lot of McDonald's drive thru's.  Of course, for those of you who have seen me play a field position, their credibility could be shot, as I had a wandering eye to the boys on the ball field next door and a wandering mind to the poetry in the wind. But intellectually, I know the fundamental basics of the game from the skills to the strategy.

So now Chase and Ryder have discovered the joys of baseball.  Typical of three year olds, this new fondness comes along with an obsession that begins as their eyes open at 7am.  "Mommy, I want to play baseball," words I always wanted to hear, now come to me at an irritating octave located somewhere on the pitch scale between "whine" and "excited shriek." 

So we play!  Indoors!  In the sunroom with wiffle balls when we are batting and when throwing, the soft hardball Pop-Pop bought each of them while still in the NICU!  And, they each have to use the ball with their own name on it.  God forbid I should toss the Ryder ball at Chase, that would be a sure act of betrayal.

Ryder is interested in playing but not more so than he is interested in being Spiderman or jamming on his guitar.  Usually, when he plays, he is dressed in what he calls his Benny outfit.  Benny is the main character in the baseball movie Sandlot, a favorite of his, and when he dresses like Benny baseball is his game.  He seems to enjoy playing, the way he enjoys everything, but has a three year old attention span and is checking out the trains, or cars, or kitchen around him, reminding me very much of myself.

Chase focuses well beyond his years, as we would expect.  Fiercely concentrating on every word and every action convinced that each and every day he gets a little bit better. He wants to play!  He wants to be good!  And, he is.  For a three year old!  He can throw hard and straight.  He can hit hard and straight.  We are working on his fielding, which is less than stellar.  He looks like a ball player and he believes he is a ball player.  He likes the way it sounds when the ball hits the bat!  I love it!

I love baseball. I am glad my boys do too!  I hope the continue to.  I hope they become real ball players.  OOH, I hope to be a baseball mom.

The Sandlot!

I was an athlete growing up . Decent at my game, ball was never my whole life as I had a revolving heart of creative passions as well. Having an older brother, who I admired tremendously, and who was an artist, perhaps influenced me in the arts in ways I would not have been otherwise.
Despite wanting to be the creative type, and perhaps some of that was, is, within me, anyone who knew me then would describe me as an athlete. The thrill of the game certainly does reside within me.

Todd was an athlete growing up, as well, and from what I understand, a very good one. He, unlike myself, remains to be a very good athlete!!
The combination of our talents always led me to assume we would breed athletes of some kind.

This is not to say I would not welcome with open arms the non-athlete. I would be proud if they were mathletes, or scientists. If they chose theater or the arts. I would be proud. If they were bookworms and found their way to Harvard. They could be who they want but, admittedly, I assume there will be an athlete, or three, in the bunch.

So, when Ryder's first love became his guitar and his interest in classic rock was the only thing he talked about, I was thrilled and surprised.  His two, now three year old, knack for the guitar seems to be beyond his years and though I encourage his strumming I have not one clue how to play and am unable to help him along.

Anyway, I wondered when the baseball and sports interest would come into play. I wondered if it would at all. We started them in an introduction to sports class, which they seemed to enjoy, and we certainly make clear that we are Phillies fan, particularly as they tried, unsuccessfully, to be repeat World Champions. But, it seems that the movie The Sandlot was the catalyst for the love of America's pastime.

After watching this adorable flick, baseball became their game of passion.  In addition they also learned to use the word "shit," which resulted in soap in the mouth.  Chase and Ryder love to re-enact this movie choosing scenes that involve both the baseball and "the Beast!"    Ryder, the costume man, also loved to dress like Benny.   He still does.

I always thought it would be the channel surfing from Flyers to Phillies to Eagles to Golf and back again that would trigger their love for sports.  Instead it was a movie.....at least it was one I grew up with.