This year we have had
an exceptionally cold start to spring.
We are three weeks into the baseball season and with the exception of
one game, we have braved freezing or near freezing temperatures to watch Jesse
play high school ball every night. Last
night was no different. It snowed at his
double header. We were curled up in
sleeping bags next to the concession stand behind home plate while snowflakes
dropped from the sky for both games.
While I sat all
bundled up, with hand warmers in my gloves, I was reminded of another game that I watched
in freezing temperatures about 14 years ago.
The game that came to mind was a
fast pitch softball game and my daughter, Sarah was on the team. She was eight years old. She had made a softball travel team out of Franklin,
Tennessee. We were on the road in
Chattanooga for this specific tournament and it was cold. Again, I was all bundled up, but this time
there was a coating of snow, probably two inches deep, on the ground. The field had been cleared a bit, but still
they should have called the tournament off due to the bad weather.
In the second game of
the tournament, there was a play that I will never forget. We talk about it from time to time and have a
great laugh. Sarah was playing third
base. It was halfway through an inning
and our team was on defense. There were
little 8 year old runners on first and second bases.
A line drive was hit
straight to Sarah at third. Without
hesitation, she caught the hit for the first out of the inning. All the parents cheered! However, the runner who was on second base
did not know to tag back up so she ran to third base where Sarah immediately
tagged her out. Now the stands really
went wild. Nearly all 30 parents who
were bundled in the bleachers started screaming at Sarah. The volume was deafening and it was
impossible to make out what they were yelling.
I looked up and saw
that the young lady who had been on first had not tagged up either. She was standing on second base. She thought she was safe. The parents in our bleachers wanted Sarah to
throw the ball to the second baseman or the short stop in order to get the
third out. But Sarah just stood there
with the ball in hand looking confused and unsure what to do in the midst of
the chaos.
Finally, the first base
coach was able to get the attention of the runner on second base and motioned
for her to run back to first base; which she did safely. So the play was over. And Sarah stood at her position near third
base looking lost.
The next batter struck
out. The bottom of the inning was over
and I watched Sarah sadly walk off the field.
She set her glove down on the bench in her dugout and walked directly to
me in the bleachers. All the parents
were congratulating her for making a double play and telling her what a great
job she did, but she was on the verge of tears and I could see it in her eyes.
I gave her a hug and
asked her what was wrong. Sadly, as the
tears spilled from her eyes down her bright, cold, red cheeks, Sarah said, “Mommy,
what did I do wrong? All the parents
were yelling and screaming at me, but I have no idea what they were
saying.” I pulled her close again and
told her that she had done nothing wrong.
In fact, she had made an amazing unassisted double play and gotten two
outs in one play. Her crying intensified
a bit and she asked, “Then why was everyone shouting at me?” I explained to her about the little girl who
had run to second base but had not tagged up.
I said that if she had thrown the ball over to the second baseman, then
we might have had another out. As it
was, I communicated to her, it did not matter, because the inning was over and
no one scored. So, I told her that she
did not need to worry. She could go back
onto the field, play ball and have fun.
I tried to wipe her tears, but I was not doing a very good job of
consoling her since she was still crying.
I asked her why she
was crying. She said that having all the
parents mad at her had really scared her.
I did my best to explain that the other parents were not upset with her
at all. I said that I thought they had
made a mistake by all screaming at her instead of letting the coach tell her
what she needed to do. But I promised
Sarah that no one was angry at her at all.
By this time, many of the other parents were watching the interaction between
Sarah and me. I know some of them felt
badly for having screamed at her and upset her.
So, I decided to try a
different approach. I told Sarah to look
at me. She did. I took her little face in my gloved hands and
asked, “Sarah, what does Tom Hanks always say?”
And through her sweet sobbing, my little eight year old daughter took a
breath, and sniffled, “There’s no crying in baseball.” “What was that?” I inquired. “There’s no crying in baseball,” she
responded with a smile. All the nearby parents
started to laugh at her response, which made Sarah grin. She took another deep breath, wiped her eyes,
gave me a hug, and ran back into the dugout to finish playing the game.
"Tribal Tales" by Diane LeJeune (c) 2010 Feeling Good Entertainment, LLC & Diane C. LeJeune
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