There's no Crying in Baseball...or Softball for that matter!

During Audrea's second or third year of summer league softball, she had one of those defining moments that a mother and her child never forget. I was coaching the team, made up of her and two of her best friends, along with a handful of other girls. We were having a decent season and the girls were getting to the point where they could definately make some progress. They were at the age that starts to separate the serious athletes from the weekend players. Audrea wanted to be a serious athlete.
To that effect, she had been working hard on her batting all spring and summer long and had seen limited success. She got up to bat and of course, the bases were loaded. I was coaching First Base and her best friend's mom was coaching Third. I don't even remember where the ball was hit to and really, that's not the point here. She took First with a vengence, rounded Second, and headed to Third. Christy, the third base coach, told her to stop on Third, but she wanted that Grand Slam. She wanted to make the serious athlete status. She was within 5 feet of the plate when the ball came flying in from the Shortstop. She saw it in her periphial vision and afraid to slide, she was tagged out at home.
OH NO! She came storming into the dug-out, pushing the teammates that had come out to congratulate her, threw her helmet down and tried to sit in the deepest corner.
"OUT!," I yelled, "Don't you dare come in here with that attitude. Go for a walk and cool off."
She looked up at me shocked.
"But Mom! I almost had the Grand Slam!," she cried.
"I don't care. You lost it because you didn't slide. That isn't my problem and I don't have time for your attitude. Get out and come back when you can control your temper."
She stormed out and was on the neighboring field when our team headed back out to the field.

FAST FORWARD 8 YEARS...

My little one, Olivia, has finally, in her third season, started to show some instict for the game. We've started league shopping and this year we've ended up in a neighboring town which has just recreated a Little League Softball organization. (More on the league shopping later). I am once again coaching along with two other adults and now Audrea is to the point where she has the ability to be a base coach.

Olivia has been practicing her batting daily and is finally starting to really keep her eye the ball during her swing. And so, with runners on third and second, she hits it out to left field. Her best hit to date! She too rounds first and heads to second where she slows down and looks to her sister for guidance. By the time, Audrea throws up her hands with the signal to run, Olivia has stopped completely at second. Not quite understanding whether her sisters wave means to "go" or "stay," she hesitates just a second or two. By the time, she realizes she is supposed to run, it's too late. The third baseman gets the ball and at about this time, Audrea starts to yell "Back! Back! Back!"

Although this is Olivia's third year playing, she is only 7 and doesn't even know the term "pickle" much less how to get out of one. So she runs right into the third baseman and is called out. All this time, the crowd had been cheering for her and when she was called out the crowd fell, as did her spirits and her big beautiful brown eyes. She jogged off the field and when she reached second, she looked up and me, slowed down to a walk and let the tears fall.

"Oh no, Baby! You did a great job! You had a great hit. Your best ever! I am so proud of you!"

It didn't matter. She was so upset. She slowly came off the field, tears falling and into my arms. I tried to tell her she had done a good job and that I was proud of her and none of that mattered. Lucky for me, her papa was close by and he took her and consoled her a bit. Next time the girls were on the field, I had a converstation with Audrea in the dug-out.

"Kinda like that time you lost your grand slam, huh kid?"

"Mom, we're not going to discuss that, ok?"

"My point is this, you learned how to slide after that, right? Think your sister will understand the signs now?"

"Yeah, Mom. I think she's got it now."

"Good. Lesson learned."

Her next turn at bat, Olivia hit a line drive right past the pitcher and through the second baseman. She got a single and 2 RBIs off that hit. That's my girl!
We won that game: 17-6. But it wasn't the score that mattered. What I realized later after all the equipment was packed up and put away was this: Olivia cried because Olivia cared. A few months ago, despite two previous years of playing, she couldn't swing the bat to save her life. Last week, she showed an abilty to hit and more important, she showed a heart for the game.