Anticipation

As Jeff said the other night, “You have been waiting for this since he was born, haven’t you?” I was sitting in my spot on the couch with my laptop, sorting the pictures I had taken that afternoon at Brighton’s first T-ball game. Have I ever mentioned I love sports? I do. However, there are strict criteria the game has to meet. It has to be either football, basketball or baseball and there must be some personal connection like the University of Georgia or Furman University or better yet, someone I know is playing. Anything else, I can take it or leave it and more often than not, I leave it. Watching Brighton’s first T-ball game was more fun than I had anticipated and the bar was high after 4 ½ years! His Toronto Blue Jays uniform was like a second skin –very normal and perfectly comfortable. I got the biggest kick out of watching him adjust his hat “just so”. He was almost as serious about his game as he is about breakfast or snack time. He was focused and ready. I was so sad when the game was over. What was I thinking when I adamantly declared to participate in a league that had only one practice and one game per week? (TJ/KB, I expect better counsel than that!) I had not seen him run around in his adorable uniform or get in his fielding stance near enough. Not having been to a T-ball game before, there were other things I had not expected like he only got to bat twice! Now, who decided that is how it would go? Although he knew which base to head for once he hit the ball, we forgot to teach him to lose the bat before he sprinted to first. He ran all the way with the bat in hand. I also had not expected the “pile up” on the baseball as it was knocked off the T. This seemed to be the goal of the team—get on the ball, and make sure you were the one who stood up with it, no matter the cost. Brighton was SO aggressive about this, Jeff had to have a little two man huddle with him.

Several days before, as we were gearing up for his first practice, he had to accompany Julia and me to her appointment for ballet pictures. After all the fuss made over her costume, hair, hair ornaments, choker, tights, shoes and lip gloss, he was more than ready to talk about something that had to do with him. On the way home he started fantasizing about his baseball skills, out loud. After speaking of things that only Mickey Mantle could have pulled off, a bit of humility came out of somewhere. He said, “Mom, I will be a good batter, but I may not be a very good ‘glove-er’.”

We were proud of him his first game. Can you tell? He obeyed the coaches when they told the boys to stop kicking dirt around. He paid attention to the next batter and where the ball was hit. He kept his elbow up and his eye on the ball as he swung with all his 4 year old might. And he kept his hat perfectly straight and just down a bit on his cute little forehead. Needless to say, I was not disappointed after 4 ½ years of waiting. Now, Jeff has a daughter who can make his coffee and I have a little boy who plays T-ball.

(The tee got in his way of his close call to make it home "safe". Actually, I think Jeff and I are the only ones who saw him "score". "Score" because you don't keep "score" in T-ball. Yeah, right. I can't help it. Its in my blood.)