Friday, September 07, 2007

Dr. Spock Would Not Approve

So we have our first game scheduled for tomorrow. We actually had a great practice yesterday. The town finally got around to removing the crab grass from the infield area, so there was an actual dirt field to play on. Of course since it hasn't rained here in about three weeks, said dirt could more accirately be described as 4" of dust. Some of the kids suggested that they should have watered down the field, to which I replied that they weren't getting paid to play and that they should probably just shut up and be glad we didn't have to mow second base.

We don't have uniforms yet, which is just as well, since the kids spent the first 20 minutes of practice kicking the dust and producing a dust storm that in about three days will be affecting weather patterns over China. At one point I couldn't see the second baseman from home plate, so I told them to stop.

I'm pretty sure that we'll win our game. For one thing, based on yesterday's practice, we're pretty good. And more importnantly, the other coach finally called me this morning to tell me that he just got appointed coach two days ago and just got his roster last night. Their first practive will be our game. I told him I don't take these things seriously, but we're so totally kicking their asses.

Lost amongst all this good news, however, is my son's dark crisis of the soul. This year is the first year he'll face pitching from kids his own age. And 9 year olds aren't real accurate. And they tend to hit batters. A lot. During practice yesterday we scrimmaged and my son, and a few other kids, were basically hitting with one foot in the batter's box and the other in the dugout. I explained to my son when we got home that yes, it does hurt to get hit with a thrown ball, but that by the time you get to 1B it's basically just sore and you're fine. Besides, physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional pain of your old man calling you a little bitch. OK, I may not have said that.

So my son says that that's all fine for me, I've been hit before and I know what it's like. He doesn't know and he's scared.

You can see where this is going right?

So I say "Oh, we can take care of that right now." I take him out in the backyard and throw a baseball at him. He did consent to this beforehand. I throw it medium speed, probably a little less hard than what he'll face from the kids in his league. It's perfect. It's going to hit him right in the thigh. It'll give him a good little sting, he'll jog it off in about two minutes, and another childhood crisis will be averted thanks to a father hurling a baseball at a minor.

Then he moved.

He jerks backward, for some reason bringing his front leg up at the same time. The ball that seconds before was going to hit his thigh now hits him right on the edge of the knee cap. I can hear the crack from 20' away. I've been hit there before by bad-hop grounders and it's a pain that just makes you want to vomit.

Needless to say, for the next 15 minutes he was pretty pissed and wanted to quit. So I just hung out with him and told him about some of my memorable shots, including once playing catcher for my college dormitory and missed a throw from the outfield, taking a ball to the chin. That really happened. Make your own Elton John joke here. Soon he was back to normal, plus he had a cool bruise with stitch marks from the baseball on his knee. He's going to show it off at school today and I'll probably be arrested tonight.

Tomorrow we go up on the roof and cure his fear of heights.


Blogger Alkelda the Gleeful said...

Oy! You are ripe to start writing your own parenting book, Limpy99. I'll place it on my shelf right next to The Three Martini Playdate.

10:24 AM  
Blogger Suzie said...

I just hope he's smart enough to deny any fear of fire.

10:46 AM  
Blogger Maggie said...

You might want to give him the article about the parent moving and letting their kid get hit with a line drive. Sometimes it's safer on the field.

My oldest was afraid to fall off her bike so I pushed her over and then said, "See? That's as bad as it gets." Then she hopped up, glared at me and proceeded to ride down the road.

10:55 AM  
Blogger limpy99 said...

Alkelda, I'll take the martinis thank you.

Suzie, actually, he likes to play with fire. I'm kind of worried about that.

Maggie, great minds think alike. And so do we.

11:28 AM  
Blogger tysgirl said...

Seriously, you chucked a fucking ball at your son?!?!

I'm not sure what this does for your hot dad factor.

My sister was taught to swim by being thrown from the dock. Poor kid, she was only 2 at the time.

12:35 PM  
Blogger limpy99 said...

Tysgirl, of course I threw the ball at him! The little bastard was crowding the plate!

12:45 PM  
Blogger Zoe said...

Seems like I end up with softball stichmarks on one of my knees at least once a season. It's like a trophy mark really.

Balls to the face however, I don't do.

1:01 PM  
Blogger eclectic said...

Next up, a lesson on power tools for kids: why the jackhammer should really be treated as merely an advanced pogo stick.

1:15 PM  
Blogger limpy99 said...

Zoe, oddly, scarred knees and balls to the chin usually go hand in hand. So to speak.

Eclectic, it's like you read my mind!

1:34 PM  
Blogger Rhonda said...

Who could blame you for being focused on winning?!
What a creative way to "help" him face his fears. No time wasted.
You do what you gotta do...


1:59 PM  
Blogger Two Kids and a Husband said...

parenting gone wild....I love it. don't we all parent like this??


5:13 PM  
Blogger Party Girl said...

Really? Throwing a baseball at your kid ended badly? Huh, odd.

I can't wait for the therapy to start.

For him, not you.

Oh, and there is a perfect timing for mixing baseball in with sex.
Cause if I guy makes it to first base without being hit in the balls, he's almost there.

That's the next father/son moment I want to read about.

6:07 PM  
Blogger Sometimes Saintly Nick said...

Watch it, Limpy! Nine-year-olds quickly become tweens and then teens and they have damned good memories and will repay a parent for past parenting mistakes when the parent is least expecting the pay back.

7:18 PM  
Blogger The Recovering Straight Girl said...

I really shudder at the thought of you teaching him about sex.

9:49 PM  
Blogger Rat In A Cage said...

I hope he doesn't have a fear of sharks.

Reminds me of the times I used to teach the ex's kids how to hit & catch at a park near us. One time, right when we were leaving, Jake asked me to hit the ball as far as I could. I hadn't hit one in 10 years so I hoped I wouldn't hit a 3 foot dribbler. I played it cool & told him to keep going back .... further ... further ... further ... further ... we were using a tennis ball since I knew his catching skills were in their infancy & he'd get plunked a lot from missing the ball. He wasn't too coordinated when he was 5 or 6.

Anyway, he had to be 60 -70 yards back when I told him to stop. It was just a tennis ball. I'm not trying to sound like I am Barry Bonds on the juice. I cracked that thing a mile high. It was going and going and going and going. The trajectory became clear.

He was having problems catching soft lobs from 10 feet. He'd close the glove and the ball would hit him in the stomach because his glove was a foot away from the path of the ball. There was no way he was going to catch this.

"Jake, get out of the way!"


(Frantically waving my arms for him to move in ANY direction. For the love of Derek Jeter, move boy, move!!!!)

He was looking skyward as if he was watching the Shuttle take off. Just frozen.

(Insert air born cruise missile sound here)


Right on top of the head. I kid you not. He freaked and started crying. We were still 60 yards away from him. His mom, sister & I were all on our knees crying from laughter. It was hilarious. The thing bounced off the top of his head & then bounced high enough to land on the roof of the little restroom building they had stationed near where he was standing.

I would have given $1,000 to have that on film. I still would. It was the funniest fucking thing I ever saw. After what seemed like forever of my rolling on the ground in fits of laughter, I could still hear his wails of horror. I knew he wasn't actually hurt, he was just being a southern CA born and raised pussy boy.

I finally hauled ass to him, mostly from all the admonishing looks of other parents in the park.

I assured him that he was fine, and after a few minutes I convinced him it was one of the funniest things that will EVER happen to him.

He never did end a practice asking me to hit one as far as I could again. His sister always did though, but she wanted me to hit it to Jake. I had to explain to her that if I tired that 100 times a day every day for the rest of my life, I could never hit him again. She was very disappointed to hear that.

He kind of lost interest in the whole thing after that, but the fact that it brought pain and terror to Jake ended up luring Arielle to the sport. She actually ended up becoming a very good thrower, catcher & hitter. I'd take them both to the batting cages for years, and she was the better of them by far. NO FEAR.

I hadn't thought about that in a long time. Thanks.

8:13 AM  
Blogger Syd said...

Dr. Spock was kind of a dick, so who knows. But, I laughed my ASS off.

6:38 AM  
Blogger limpy99 said...

Rhonda, he seems over it now anyway. Hung in there Saturday and got a couple of hits off one of the better pitchers. And then got hit in the ribs while stealing second.

2kids, we should all parent like that.

PG, so what you're saying is if I get to first on a clean hit, I may as well just head for home.

Nick, I'm sure I'll be in the cut-rate nursing home.

RSG, I'm sending him to your house for that conversation.

Rat, That was a great story.

Syd, and laughter is the most important part of parenting, as we all know.

8:29 AM  
Blogger Whimsical Ranter said... least he's not still angry with you. LOL

10:02 AM  
Blogger Lil Bit said...

LMFAO!! I luv how you parent! LOL

and ohhhhhhhhhhhh! - the kids play FALL BALL, duh.
Had I read THIS post 1st, I mighta known that, w/the "first game" & all. Doh. ;)

11:05 AM  

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