I judged my parents harshly for their failure to attend any of my softball games during the three years I played in an organized league as a child. I think they slowed down the car and I jumped, rolled into a ditch and then stumbled onto the ball field dragging my mitt behind me. Or something like that. But, seriously, they never attended my games. They were busy.
Tonight, I had the distinct pleasure of driving my 9-year old son twenty-five minutes away to a soggy ball field so he could play baseball. (My husband had a scheduling conflict.) I pulled the key out of the ignition and that’s when my son smacked himself on the forehead and said, “I forgot my glove!” I am pretty sure I rolled my eyes and then said, “You are kidding me. You didn’t bring your glove to a baseball game?” and then he started to cry.
He and his 4-year old sister trailed behind me as I strode across the newly mown field toward his coach. I delivered him to the coach, explained that I’d be going back to get the glove and that I’d be back in time for the game. (I am such an optimist at such random times.) Then I dragged my daughter back across the field and to the van. Forty minutes later, we were back, lucky us. The time was 7:25 p.m. and the other team was up to bat.
I did a quick count and estimated that about one hundred people were involved in this recreational activity. We all stood around. Raindrops kept falling on our heads. My daughter finished her snack and began to beg to go home, stopping only to inform me that she needed to pee. Off we went, across the gigantic field, to the restrooms in the community center. Once inside the building, we followed the trail of grass clumps. Then, back to the game, which was now being played in semi-darkness and increasing rainfall.
My son never got to bat. (Fourteen teammates were present, plus on Saturday he opted to skip the “Jamboree” and attend a birthday party instead. My husband told me in advance that if he were the coach, he’d make our boy sit on the bench for two games as a result of that choice.) My boy was put in left field for one inning where he missed the one ball hit his direction. At least he got to touch the ball as he threw it in field. For this, I drove a combined hour and twenty minutes, maybe a little more. I stood in the cold rain. I listened to my daughter whine for at least thirty minutes. Everyone was late getting to bed. (The game lasted until 8:30 p.m., which, if you ask me, is late for a school night. My husband suggested that perhaps I’d like to run for baseball commissioner and I said, no thanks, I’d rather just be Queen of the World and then he wondered aloud if I’d tolerate the dissenters and pointed out that I prefer feedback only if it’s positive.)
At any rate, I hated the whole baseball in the rain at dusk experience. I can’t believe we all put ourselves through that in the name of fun. Now I kind of understand why my parents skipped my games. (I’m only a little bitter now, instead of a lot. Mom, if you’re reading this, I’m just kidding.)
Incidentally, my husband wanted a full report. I told him what I just told you. Then he said, “Who won?” and I looked at him with incredulity and said, “Who cares? I have no idea!” because I couldn’t see anyone even keeping score. Furthermore, they don’t play a particular number of innings, but a certain length of time, I think. And I was distracted by my whiny daughter. All I know is that the pitcher on our team seemed to hit about every third player on the opposite team . . . and he had an earring and I just have to wonder what kind of parents let a 9-year old boy pierce his ear.
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I don’t get the whole team sport thing. We did it one spring probably 4 years ago. Tee ball, 2 kids on two different teams, it was susposed to be 1 hour on a Saturday morning for 10 weeks. It was a nightmare. One kid would have to be there at 9:00 the other one at 12:00, or other times inbetween. It ended up being 15 weeks with extra practices on Tuesdays because of rain. These kids were 4 through 7 and the things the parents yelled at them left me feeling queezy. No thanks.
Marla
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Probably the same parent that lets their 7 year old son pierce his ear THREE times. I kid you not. I went on a field trip with my son yesterday, and I noticed another boy in his first grade class has three hoops in one ear. I was literally sick.
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I kept stats for my son’s community league basketball team one season. The outcome of a game hinged solely upon whether or not a certain amount of fouls had occurred. There’s NOTHING like the pressure of a full gym of people turning in YOUR direction and you know you’re going to disappoint half of them with your answer. NEVER AGAIN!
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I am laughing- I hate to laugh at your misfortune, but you can make most any situation comical and witty! And yes, in my son’s kindy class there is a kid with both ears pierced.
Steph
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HAhahahahaaha. I am SO laughing on this one! I was on every Varsity team from the time I was in 9th grade (it was my height at 6′ – not necessarily my athletic ability) and I can count on one hand the number of times my mom (who was a stay at home mom)was at any of my games or meets. Like you, I have made the decision to “be there” for my kids in this area. My eldest daughter is 10 and is playing organized sports for the first time in her life. (I dare any of my family to tell me NOW that she needs more socializing as a homeschooler!) Her team is a first year team and they totally stink…but they are having a blast and the coach is working hard teaching them the fundamentals, so I think it’s going to work out just fine…isn’t having fun what it’s all about, anyway?
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OH mel you mean you dont keep score. I am so competitive in sports that I ALWAYS keep score at my daughters games. We have been told not to because “its just a game”! But I cant help it! My daughters team has won every game but one this season!
Your tale of the game from a parents perspective is hilarious! Even though I keep score I still hate going to the games. Man I hate it!
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Now that it’s soccer season my husband is cursing me every saturday. What we do for our kids…
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I grew to love basketball because it is played indoors.
You can certainly tell a story, Mel!
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Yes, what Judy said, and I haven’t been to a team sport since my son played indoor soccer with a YMCA program. I’m a little glad none of my kids are interested in doing that. Or maybe I’m a bad mom because I don’t encourage it. I don’t discourage it, but I’ve encouraged them in music, drawing, computer programming, and drama. Oh dear, I just realized that those are all things *I* enjoy. Oh well. lol
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Well, baseball and softball are quite possibly the most boring sports to watch on Earth. I played for many years and I was very good at it, but I have not really encouraged the sport here for my own kids because it is b-o-r-i-n-g to watch! And when they are so young, they don’t get a lot of play so they get bored on the field. We do soccer, a much faster moving game with lots more exercise in it. It doesn’t seem like the kids get any exercise in baseball. But I will have to agree with the other person who mentioned the parents. Man they can be complete jerks! There are always those dads who run up and down the sidelines coaching and yelling at their kid. Or the moms who sit around and gossip with one another about the players. Ick. I keep to myself for the most part. My 11 yr old daughter has signed up for cheerleading, much to my personal horror. How can *I be the mother of a cheerleader? I only know how to make fun of cheerleaders, how am I going to cope? What are these cheer moms going to be like and how will I fit in at the games and functions? I hope these kids know the lengths to which I go to make them happy.
As for the earring on the boy, I don’t see what the problem is. If girls can have earrings, why can’t boys? I would let my 9 yr old have his ear pierced. It isn’t permanent, what’s the big deal? We need to get over these stupid gender rules such as earrings and long hair. Now, there is no way my sons would be allowed to have mullets, because we don’t roll like that here. Earrings, fine. Mullets, I don’t think so!
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I love sports and especially baseball, we already have Mr. P enrolled in T-ball. Lucky for us, he LOVES it, so I am happy to watch him progress.
I can count on one hand the games of mine that my parents MISSED. And usually, I wanted them not to be there. They traveled all over the state.
Maybe they just didn’t trust me, now that I think about it…
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Something to look forward to someday. For now he can continue watch Yankee highlights on the TV with his Dad all while wearing his Jeter Jersey every other day in between washings of his Seahawks Jersey. Boys!
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My mom went to my soccer games, until one saturday when I got carded. She was humiliated. She flat told me that she would not watch another game until I stopped turning it into a contact sport. She even tried to sign me up for rugby.
I’m afraid my husband might have been one of those awful dad’s at my son’s game this saturday. I couldn’t be there, and he admitted to me that he yelled at Keeghan for crying when he got hit by ball. In his defense, he says Keeghan has been head-butted harder by the baby.
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I SO agree with the t-ball/baseball thing. We finally figured out that we are just not a baseball family. The kids always wanted to sign up, the season starts and they are bored out of their mind (as were we!). We were then out the money and left with a full season to deal with.
Oh and that parent? Must be related to a kid in my son’s 2nd grade class. He wears a t-shirt that says “I’m not allowed to date..unless you’re hot”. 8 years old!!
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I’m sure my parents probably came to my games – I can’t really remember one way or the other. What I DO remember though is how much I HATED playing softball. And basketball. And any other sport I was in. Did I ask to sign up or did Mom decide for me? I have no idea.
My son is in his first season of soccer. So far it hasn’t been dark, rainy, or miserable for which I am very thankful!
Hang in there. 🙂
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