Maybe I will, because I’m a sucker, but right now I say I am never touching a bat again.
This isn’t about my baseball career, I suck at baseball. I was that kid who could slam it out of the park, but I was cursed because as they said in those days “I threw like a girl.”
So, this is three stories about three separate kids.
Ironically the first kid was a girl who at the ripe old age of eight could throw a ball much better than my adult ass.
Story Number One:
I was good friends with both the mother and father of two girls. One girl very much was into watching baseball on TV for some weird reason even though her sister and parents were not into it. Both parents were decent parents and the baseball loving girl was driven to softball by one or the other of them, and the mother was an active participant with the children. The father was more of a passive participant verging on a non active participant. In other words, the mother did play and interact, and help with practicing with her children, the father attended things and watched. The father though was a longshoreman and was often out of town, but the mom was an accountant who did most of her work at home.
All was good.
Then the mother started hanging around with a guy who I also knew. I suggested it was a mistake, and that the dude was a narcissistic creep and not someone she should hang with. She took afront and continued, which was odd because she had always taken my advice before.
Long story short, she ended up doing a lot more than just hanging out. All heck broke loose after a few months.
As a friend of both parties involved I decided to pick up a bit of the slack while they worked everything out by practicing batting with the baseball loving daughter of the two. That went on for a few months.
Another long story short, the couple divorced, the woman became psycho and made it so the father only got the kids on the weekends, and she became at first a non active participant and then a non participant to both her children. I spoke about this and also again spoke about her now boyfriend being a creeper.
I was removed from a position of giving my two cents when it came to her life.
The father was a mess and quit his job which was crazy as he was making around a hundred thousand a year. In todays economy that’d be near three hundred thousand.
The creeper gross boyfriend ended up marrying the woman, did bad things to both her daughters, and the once baseball fanatic girl ended up strung out on drugs. The stress made the woman mess up and she went from accountant to waitress, then married a doctor that treated her like crud after a few years and wouldn’t allow either daughter in his home because of their “problems.”
To give a good-ish ending to this story, after many years the father of the two girls ended up having a good life and is close with both daughters. One ended up having a nice normal life, and the other seemed to finally be on the road to recovery last I heard.
Story Number Two:
A boy who I had many similarities with in certain ways really wanted to play baseball. He did not live in the same town as me, but I knew this about his wanting to play baseball. The parents got him a ball and a glove for his tenth birthday. I was there. This kid did not even know how to play basic catch, no using of a glove or anything. He was so excited to get this gift he was smiling ear to ear. He asked his father to go play catch with him.
His father said “maybe later,” and blew him off.
I told the father he was being a stereotypical bad dad like in movies that portray bad parents. We argued, and he really didn’t care.
I should not have been surprised. The mother was a semi-observing parent and the father was a complete non participant from day one. In other words, mom was the type to sign her kids up for swimming lessons and bring them, and then sit in the bleachers on her phone and watch a little bit. The dad would just skip it.
So, on this kids birthday it was not the dad who played catch with him, it was me who showed him how to use a glove.
The next time he was to visit I promised to do it again, plus some batting.
It ended up being months, and the kid brought his glove and ball along with excitement.
He had not improved. I did have him hit a few balls, by my heart wasn’t in it because this guy would have nobody else to toss a ball around with until his next visit. That is why he hadn’t improved.
The parents went through a divorce, the mom got VERY involved in herself, the dad became a super loser… and that kid who has an IQ through the roof is a freaking wreck currently as he is heading into his teens.
Story Number Three:
A boy who I have known well I decided needed to get into team sports. He is an awesome kid, but doesn’t blend with others well, and being in team sports helps that. I picked baseball because that is what he is built for. He will not be playing football.
His father is a decently active participant, and in multiple things he is a great active participant, but in getting his child enthused enough to learn from scratch something he himself has no passion for it doesn’t work. He just goes about it in an instructional way rather than a fun and joyful way which is what the boy needed in this scenario. No shade on the father here.
So I took it upon myself to start getting the boy into swinging a bat at a ball as a super fun thing. It worked. After a couple months though I found I would not be around the boy enough to lead him through the phases. So I decided to stop.
It was saddening because the next few weeks whenever I’d see him he’d ask to hit balls, and I would maybe a little bit and divert to something else.
I then switched it up to something else which would interest him, but that I in particular wouldn’t be needed for.
Maybe he’ll get into it late, I’d mentioned T-ball to both parents yearly, but he’s a bit old for that now. If he’d gotten involved he’d have done great with encouragement, and being on a team would have created a different social dynamic for him that would have carried him through school. The mother was at one point an active participant type parent, but is now what I’d describe as passive participant, as in she’d get him to practice, she’d watch, and that’s about it. As already mentioned, the father is decently active participant. These types both make sports good for kids, and if the boy had decent core skills the father would participate because he’d need not be the primary instructor.
So… That is my three stories of why I will never be playing with a bat again.
Over the years I have been the catalyst for many children and adults learning and doing new things. I’ve gotten people into bike riding, running, weights, painting, drawing, tattooing, performing, boxing, motorcycle racing, climbing, soccer, yoga, and even tennis which I am horrible at. Different things for different folks, it can change your life. When it comes to a bat and ball though I have struck out three times with three different kids in achieving the successful end results I had hoped for. Three strikes, and I’m out.
Never touching a bat again.