the in-house battle, and a shot of attitude adjustment for all my friends
The youngster had a game at 5:00 yesterday evening. On the drive there, I talked to him about playing the game, and playing it well, no matter where he was. I talked to him about his own integrity, and what the rest of the team needed from him, and I thought he was buying into it. He didn't seem as bitter as before. Still, I wanted to see what happened when he got out there...in right field again. I was trying to prepare for the worst.
Ever since I left the message on the coach's answering machine, I had been anxious every time the phone rang. I wanted to handle it the right way. I wanted to get a message across, but I didn't want it to turn adversarial, and I didn't want to come off as a dad pushing his own kid's adgenda to play a specific position. I just wanted him to let the youngster know what to expect, so we didn't have to battle his attitude for the rest of the season. Well, all that anxiety went for naught, because the guy never called. I wasn't letting it go however, and when we got to the field, I pulled him aside and explained the situation, and I made it clear that I wasn't lobbying for the youngster to play second. I just wanted him to talk to him, and, if he's playing right field for the rest of the season, let him know, and let him know why. He never saw it coming, or acted that way (and I don't think he's much of an actor, so I think it was genuine.) He saw my point though, and agreed to talk to the boy.
Later, during pre-game batting practice, I saw him pull the youngster aside make good on his word. On the way to the dugout, he looked at me and asked, "You told him, didn't you?"
"What?"
"You told him I was mad."
"Well, yeah, I did."
That's all that was said. Once again, he didn't play second. He played left field, but he played like a kid possessed. He hustled like he used to. He made plays. He was smiling. He did well at the plate with a sacrifice bunt and a single. I had no idea what the coach said to him, but I saw it working. We lost the game by one run, but I didn't care. I had my kid back.
After the game we went to dinner, and he was smiling. He asked me, "Do you want to know what he said?"
"Well, if you want to tell me." Deep inside, yeah, I was dying to know. I wanted to know what transformed my little pity partier into a ball player again, so he told me. He said the coach told him he knows he's the best second baseman he has, but he's also very fast. He has him in the outfield because when he's there, line drives hit there stay singles and don't become extra base hits. Fly balls become outs. He can't do that with the kids he has playing second because they aren't very fast.
Now, is that fair to the youngster? Maybe and maybe not. Is he blowing sunshine up his ass? Maybe and maybe not. Does it help the error count at second? No. Maybe it makes for a better defense. Hell, I don't know. What I do know is the kid is playing like he loves baseball again, and that's what matters.
The NCAA Tournament...the youngster, among other things, is a Gator fan. His room is blue and white with a (mostly orange) Gator border between the colors. He wears way too many orange and blue things, and yeah, that's partially my fault. I mean, I buy them. In any case, his Gators play my Wildcats for a chance to be in the final four. I'll never hear the end of it if things go his way.
Ever since I left the message on the coach's answering machine, I had been anxious every time the phone rang. I wanted to handle it the right way. I wanted to get a message across, but I didn't want it to turn adversarial, and I didn't want to come off as a dad pushing his own kid's adgenda to play a specific position. I just wanted him to let the youngster know what to expect, so we didn't have to battle his attitude for the rest of the season. Well, all that anxiety went for naught, because the guy never called. I wasn't letting it go however, and when we got to the field, I pulled him aside and explained the situation, and I made it clear that I wasn't lobbying for the youngster to play second. I just wanted him to talk to him, and, if he's playing right field for the rest of the season, let him know, and let him know why. He never saw it coming, or acted that way (and I don't think he's much of an actor, so I think it was genuine.) He saw my point though, and agreed to talk to the boy.
Later, during pre-game batting practice, I saw him pull the youngster aside make good on his word. On the way to the dugout, he looked at me and asked, "You told him, didn't you?"
"What?"
"You told him I was mad."
"Well, yeah, I did."
That's all that was said. Once again, he didn't play second. He played left field, but he played like a kid possessed. He hustled like he used to. He made plays. He was smiling. He did well at the plate with a sacrifice bunt and a single. I had no idea what the coach said to him, but I saw it working. We lost the game by one run, but I didn't care. I had my kid back.
After the game we went to dinner, and he was smiling. He asked me, "Do you want to know what he said?"
"Well, if you want to tell me." Deep inside, yeah, I was dying to know. I wanted to know what transformed my little pity partier into a ball player again, so he told me. He said the coach told him he knows he's the best second baseman he has, but he's also very fast. He has him in the outfield because when he's there, line drives hit there stay singles and don't become extra base hits. Fly balls become outs. He can't do that with the kids he has playing second because they aren't very fast.
Now, is that fair to the youngster? Maybe and maybe not. Is he blowing sunshine up his ass? Maybe and maybe not. Does it help the error count at second? No. Maybe it makes for a better defense. Hell, I don't know. What I do know is the kid is playing like he loves baseball again, and that's what matters.
The NCAA Tournament...the youngster, among other things, is a Gator fan. His room is blue and white with a (mostly orange) Gator border between the colors. He wears way too many orange and blue things, and yeah, that's partially my fault. I mean, I buy them. In any case, his Gators play my Wildcats for a chance to be in the final four. I'll never hear the end of it if things go his way.
John put this out here at 10:06 AM
4 Comments:
awesome. And I'm with you on 'Nova today.
That's good to hear that all end well! :)
er, 'cept for the game. it was fun to see UConn lose, but now (no thanks to nova) my bracket's dead.
My heavily Big East influenced bracket is absolutely trashed. As much as I love the George Mason story, I can't say I predicted it, and I picked Villanova out of pure hope and emotion. UCLA and LSU?? I didn't see either of them pulling through.
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