This is a story about me, written by my dad. It is a letter that he wrote to my grandparents when I was 11 years old and had just started playing little league baseball. I think it is necessary to provide a counter influence in my development that can possibly answer the question of how I survived my childhood in such good shape. It was because of my dad, my rock.
Dear Mom & Roy,
Just had to drop a line and tell you about David’s Little League. I think I told you some but will start at beginning just so you have the complete picture.
On the day of the tryouts he was very nervous and didn’t hit the ball once but was OK at fielding and great at throwing. So anyway we anxiously awaited a call to tell him if he made the Major or Minor league. One by one his friends got calls and every single one of them made the Majors. The call finally came and we learned David would be in the Minor League.
At that point all of my worst feelings about organized sports for children were realized. You should have seen him. He was crushed—everyone one of his friends on the Major’s, him on the Minors. He cried for awhile and was mad for a few hours and even considered dropping the whole thing. I tried to tell him about “A big fish in a little pond”, but at 11 years and after such a blow, it didn’t help at all.
First practice day for the Tigers of the Minor League……. Ah what a group. Balls flying back and forth over each other’s heads, the sound of bats slicing cleanly thru the air, yells of “Where does a second baseman stand?”, practice balls hit by the coach rolling thru 4 sets of legs…it should have been filmed for a tv series. In the midst of all this pandemonium, one child quietly catches every ball near him, hits a few good balls, and when tryouts for pitcher come up, drills every pitch right down the chute.
A STAR IS BORN.
The coach comes over to me and asks if I have any objection to David being the team pitcher? Of course not. Riding home David has little to say but has the biggest grin on his face. He did well and knows it.
David continues to do well at each practice and gets better and better. They don’t let you pitch a whole game in the Minors so he also plays short stop. Not too bad in that either but where he really shines is on the mound.
So after a few weeks of practice we come to the first practice GAME. Playing against another team, not just throwing the old horsehide around the bases. Now its not a league game that counts, just a practice game. But boy are the Tigers excited, you could bottle and sell the adrenalin they had. Kids running, jumping, thumping mitts, yelling — this team is definitely up for this game.
THE TIGERS TAKE THE FIELD. David looks so small and nervous standing out on the mound. Maybe not so nervous as serious. He glances into the stands to see spectators watching for the first time. This is definitely, not like practice. He gives his dad a quick wave and his dad waves back weakly. I am so nervous I think I’m going to be sick. This is terrible-David takes life so seriously, he must do everything well, he won’t allow himself to fail, this child will cry if I don’t let him stay up til midnight to finish a composition which he has already written but thinks one more draft will make it perfect—this kid could crack under the pressure and he doesn’t I’m sure I will.
Everything quiets down on the field., the pitcher assumes his stance, pauses for 15 seconds without moving, glances to second base…..
STRIKE ONE
Three up—three down, the Tigers come to bat.
They hit a few, the pitcher walks a few and after three outs the Tigers lead one to nothing.
David is a little looser now and strikes the first two out easily but then walks two. So with two men on base David puts it right over the base, the batter takes a giant cut and hits it hard about five feet off the ground and looks like the centerfielder is going to have a tough catch. But before it can get that far, the pitcher instinctively leaps up and to his right and comes down looking incredulously at the ball in his mitt. The crowd is going wild, I’m ready to piss in my pants, and the coach casually yells-“Well Dave, that saves your no-hitter.” David stands, beaming.
The Tigers bring the score to five to nothing this inning and the coach says David needs a rest and puts him at short stop for the next two innings. (By the way his two coaches are about 19 and he thinks they are great. ) Well anyway, the Tigers alternate pitcher is not so good and after two innings he has the score tied-five all.
Its the last inning and the opposing teams has this new pitcher in trouble. He walked two and allowed two hits and struck one guy out. It looks like they might score. People in the stands are beginning to yell for David. The coach looks at David and waves him to the mound to the cheers of the crowd (no kidding).
David looks very serious now. There are two men on and only one out. He winds up and throws—BALL ONE. Three pitches later David has walked the batter and things are really tense. People are yelling encouragement from the stands but Davide seems not to hear, standing stoney faced starting at the batter.
STRIKE ONE!
STRICK TWO!
STRIKE THREE!
YOU’RE OUT!
The second batters repeats the same act and David is the hero of the day.
I guess I have gone on and on but it sure is something to see David develop in another way. I think it has surprised him as much as anybody to find he has another dimension.
Love,
Jim
