As you know, Mac is on a Little League baseball team. We got lucky and got the chilled-out coach and parents (which I understand are both a rarity in this uber-competitive place we call home right now). Their laidback-ness, of course, makes Jimmy and me (okay, me, in particular) look more uptight than we (or I, in particular) already are (or am, in particular). Nobody (okay, me) wants their kid to be the one to screw up and make the team lose the game.
Mac's coach believes in letting everyone try out different positions, which I think is a great idea. A 10 year-old kid might think he loves right field until he's had a chance to play shortstop. They're all developing their skills in different areas of play and it's great to watch.
Mac has been playing first base a lot, but he's really wanted to pitch. He's pitched at least 297 balls to Jimmy and felt like he was ready. He was on the pitching lineup for the game last week, but the mercy rule was invoked before they got to that inning. (Mac's coach is great about sportsmanlike conduct and doesn't let the players steal bases to prey on weaknesses in the other team, but not every other coach in the league feels the same way).
Anyway, today Mac got his chance to pitch. Being a pitcher's mom, even if only for an inning, is not for the faint of heart. Everybody's watching this one player and knows if he's screwing up. I can tell you that a lot of runs have been scored by walking batters, and I didn't want that to happen to Mac. We knew he was nervous and we knew that he'd lose all confidence if he threw wild pitches or walked a lot of batters, which only compounded both Jimmy's and my nerves.
Well our boy pulled out all the stops. Of the four batters who came up against him, he struck out the first two, walked the next one and then struck out the fourth batter.
You probably heard the deep exhale of relief from the Westover field wherever you were late Saturday afternoon.
For a great first stop at the pitcher's mound, I am very thankful.
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