spynotes ::
  June 17, 2006
The boys (and girl) of summer

Scene: The kitchen of the harriet household yesterday evening. Harriet is making dinner for grownups. AJ is reading a book about nutrition while eating his dinner, which consists of a peanut butter sandwich, some slices of cucumber and a pile of strawberries.

AJ: Hey, I have vitamin C! In my strawberries!
Harriet: That's great AJ!
AJ: Hey, do we have whole grain bread?
Harriet: Yes, your peanut butter sandwich is on whole wheat bread.
AJ: That's good, because whole grain bread has vitamin E. But I don't think I have any vitamin K.
Harriet: Well, that's mostly in green leafy vegetables. Want some spinach?
AJ: (makes a face). Yuck! Oh, wait, I do have vitamin K, Mommy!
Harriet: You do? Where?
AJ: In my nuts?
Harriet (trying not to snort her glass of wine through her nostrils): Excuse me?
AJ: You know, in the almonds I had for snack.
Harriet: Oh, those nuts.

* * * * *
I bet we're all glad that I didn�t have to get AJ a cup for T-ball, for yes, the day finally did arrive. Because clearly, I don't have the maturity to handle the job.

It was a brutally hot morning on the ball field. The wind was kicking up dust on the infield, but that was okay because the White Sox was gathering in the outfield, where they had a small diamond laid out on the grass with a black tee where home plate should be. "That looks just like mine," AJ muttered under his breath as he headed for the field, alternately running with excitement and stalling out of shyness. His first baseball team!

He shook hands with his coach, who seemed a nice fellow, if a bit high strung. The coach complimented AJ on the White Sox shirt and hat he showed up in then handed him a Major League White Sox hat (we had to cinch the Velcro on the back in all the way) and a grey team T-shirt that came down nearly to his knees. It had the park district logo on the front and above that, his full name in iron-on letters. "My wife put their names on their shirts," the coach explained. AJ had been hoping for a number on the back like the big leaguers, but a shirt with his name on it was almost as good

AJ is the littlest guy on his team of 9 boys and one girl. We were a little worried about him getting out there with the big kids, but we shouldn�t have been. He played hard and well, listened to his coach (even when he was talking to other kids) and had a big grin on his face the entire time. I didn't think AJ's smile could be any bigger until the coach came up to him and complimented him on his fielding stance and said he should be shortstop. AJ really wants to be shortstop and he thinks the shortstop is always the best player. Plus Snoopy is a shortstop.

It's hard to tell when a T-ball practice is going well. I'm thinking that if everyone's facing the right direction most of the time, nobody's crying and nobody runs into each other, they're doing okay. I think this is the coach's first time with 5 and 6 year-olds, because he kept saying things like "maintain your ground" and "rotate positions," which had the kids spinning in circles trying to figure out what they were supposed to be doing. He also told the kids what to do for drills rather than showed them how to do it, which just added to the confusion. On the sidelines, I was laughing until tears were coming out of my eyes. My husband, who was trying very hard not to be a sideline coach, was muttering under his breath about what would have worked better and simultaneously thanking the powers that be that he hadn't volunteered for the job.

At one point, there was anarchy in the field. They were taking turns batting and rotating through positions in such a way that each kid had to be placed individually by the coach, lest they all stand in a mob in the middle of the field. At one point, one of the kids got excited about catching a ground ball and ran to tag the runner, who was supposed to pretend it was a home run and circle the bases. AJ stopped him, "No, M., there's no outs in T-ball." M. protested, but a couple of other kids heard what was going on and came over, "Yeah, there's no outs in T-ball." The coaches didn�t see any of it. They were trying to keep the latest batter from sending the tee flying up the first base line.

AJ did better at bat. His first hit got a round of applause, which he clearly loved:

After his third hit, he got to run the bases. Here is an airborne AJ rounding third base:

In between drills and at the end of practice, the coaches would shout out, "Huddle!" and the kids would come running and put their hands on a bat and shout, "Let's go, White Sox!" It was the one action of the day that they all could do well, and they did it with great enthusiasm, each rendition louder than the last.

After an hour and a half of practice, the kids were hot and sweaty and ready to call it a day. The coach brought cookies and juice for all. AJ grabbed his allotment and then passed them off to his dad to do one more thing before he left -- he ran the bases on the big kids' diamond, sliding into home plate in a cloud of dust.

When we got home, we celebrated his first practice with ice cream and lemonade and then AJ wanted to run outside again to show The Girl Next Door his new T-shirt and tell her about the game. She listened patiently for a full 30 seconds before she reminded him of his new walkie talkies and the two were off in an elaborate game of reconnaissance. I chose my opportunity to escape to the library for a couple of hours of air conditioned quiet.

3 people said it like they meant it

 
:: last :: next :: random :: newest :: archives ::
:: :: profile :: notes :: g-book :: email ::
::rings/links :: 100 things :: design :: host ::

(c) 2003-2007 harri3tspy

<< chicago blogs >>