Play Ball!

My apologies for such an extremely long time since my last column… Life got a little busy. In truth, these columns will probably become less frequent since, as Mikey gets older, some of the things I want to share seem less cute and more like exploitation.

Whatever, he’s too young to hold a grudge.

So this year we did fall ball. Mikey never played T-ball or Little League before so we didn’t have high expectations. But a friend’s dad was coaching the team, and the registration fee wasn’t too bad since it’s a shorter season, so we figured … What’s another sport to add to the roster?

And then off to we went to buy the pants and belt, a better glove, some more balls to practice with, the right-sized bat, and a helmet. At the suggestion of the coach, we also got him his first cup, which comes with special underwear with a little pocket for it. That got a giggle out of Mikey who ran around the house adjusting to his “weenie protector.”

We drew the line at yet another pair of cleats and made him wear his flag football cleats for baseball, since I guess they are a closer match than the soccer ones. Three different pairs of cleats just sounds excessive to me.

And, honestly, we thought his interest in the game would wane as the season went on, seeing as there is a fair amount of standing around in baseball.

Well, here we are underestimating the kid time and time again. For someone who had really only ever tossed a baseball around in a game of catch, the 7-year-old was a natural. His skill was right up there with the other players who had been playing the game for a few years – and even better than some.

He clearly gets his athletic ability from his mother…

Anyway, during those first practices we watched as Mikey learned to “shuffle, shuffle, throw.” He made an alligator with his mitt and his hand and lunged to pick up ground balls. And he learned that he can run right over first base, but not the others.

And during those first games, his head was totally in it. I watched him stand at third base while his team was out in the field, and any time we heard the crack of the bat against the ball and it went in his general direction, he ran for it – even if the coaches ended up calling a foul ball. His head was in the game!

I absolutely thought he’d be counting the clouds.

His batting is about on par with the rest of the team at this age, with a 50/50 chance of him having to end up using the tee. Since it’s a bunch of second-graders, they only play three innings, and they rotate through the entire lineup, instead of switching after three outs.

They also don’t play “three strikes and you’re out.” Everyone gets several pitches to try and hit it and an unlimited amount of fouls balls. If they can’t make the hit, they pull out the tee.

So while we still have some practice to do at bat, Mikey was truly phenomenal out in the field. He often played shortstop, or the position between first and second base. (It’s possible that’s not a real position, but since no one is hitting a homer during these games, they pull the kids off the outfield and kind of sprinkle them everywhere infield.) There was one game that he grabbed numerous ground balls and threw them right – and I mean right – into the mitt of the first baseman for an out.

It was exhilarating!

He even caught a few balls that were thrown to him when he was positioned at first base.

One of Mikey’s greatest strengths is that he’s fast – and apparently more aware than I give him credit for. During one of this team’s turns at bat, the other team had a duo that was constantly getting the batter out at first base. So, during Mikey’s turn, he just tapped the ball and bunted it a few feet, then took off, making it safely to first base.

After he successfully made it to home plate and returned to the dugout, my husband asked him why he didn’t hit it with more power. You know what the kid said?

Mikey said he knows he can’t yet control where he hits the ball, so he kept it close to make the other kids have to run father to get it, because he can run faster than them and he knew he could easily make it to first base before they got him out.

The little shyster.

The season seemed to go quickly, as I believe it was only eight weekends long. But I have to tell you, I really liked watching him play baseball! A few other moms griped that it was the more boring of the sports their kids play, but I wholeheartedly disagree.

I do feel like there’s room for improvement in the comfort of the aluminum bleachers, though. I mean, it’s 2025… I don’t think a little more back support is too much to ask.

Oh, something I won’t miss? Finding Mikey’s weenie protector sitting on my counter right next to the bananas.

Holly Crocco is editor of the Putnam County Times/Press and mother of a 7-year-old boy. She can be reached at editorial@putnampresstimes.com.