So we had the boys first T-Ball game on Saturday. I looked forward to the game because I like baseball and this is one of those benchmark moments in a father/son relationship. I had my chair and a cooler full of beer and my daughter to keep me company while we watched the game. Okay, I didn't have the beer as that probably wouldn't look right. Unfortunately, I was immediately recruited to "help" out which took away from my time sitting with Maile. This entailed telling the kids where to stand in the field, where to throw the ball, not to sit down, not to chase the bug that just flew by, look alive, etc. The game went pretty well, though we got walloped. The other team was clearly better coached and they had some guys that ultimately I wanted to see a birth certificate on as well as drug test. One kid hit a home run that went so far, that he was back in the dugout before one of our little kiddiewinks caught up to it.

Jackson was all smiles right up to the point where one of the kids on the other team hit a screamer to the outfield that bounced once and clocked Jackson hard on the cheek bone. His hands went immediately up to his face and the wailing came on quickly. They stopped the game and walked him off the field. Some mothers attended to him with ice packs and love and he calmed down pretty quickly. Finally, I figured I probably should get involved so I trotted off the field to check on him. I removed the icepack and saw the red bump where the ball hit him. It didn't look too bad but I'm sure it hurt him and probably scared him a little bit as well. At that point I asked him if he was ready to go back into the game. I knew the answer more than likely was going to be a shake of the head, but I asked anyway. He's all boy, but not the toughest kid on the block. To my surprise, he said he was ready. I told him that it was because of his socks. He looked down and then looked back up at me somewhat perplexed. Because we went to the pro game last week, and because he liked the way a few of the players wore their socks high, he wanted me to do his pants up the same way. I told him that the tough kids wear their pants that way and he smiled in a way that let me know he was more than proud of himself. He trotted back out on the field to praise from all the parents in attendance. He got three good hits and even fielded another ball that came out his way. I'm most proud of him for brushing it off and getting back out there. The little boy is growing up. Hope you are well.


Johnny GoFast