Throwback Thursday: Stories From The Diamond
Updated: Jul 18, 2019
One of my favorite things to do in my free time as a professional writer at Edit This® is to chronicle the time I spend with my family, especially my boys. Take my oldest, for example. Christian has always had an intense love for baseball, and I’ve always done my best to be there for him and teach him as much as I can. In the spirit of Throwback Thursday, I came across the piece below while looking through a few older columns I wrote for Murray Media Group. I wrote this not even four years ago when he could barely catch.
Now he’s on a select team in Argyle. It’s crazy how fast they grow up. —————————————— I’ve been told a time or two – or three – that I’m not the most patient guy out there. I used to think those who noticed it, like my beautiful wife, were crazy. That is until I began teaching our oldest son to play baseball. At that point, I realized, wow! She was right. I am impatient. Ridiculously impatient. In my defense, it’s not easy teaching baseball. I love the game, but I never really felt like a good coach. Nothing I said seemed to sink in – even though I was teaching the right things. For me, it was the most frustrating experience. It shouldn’t have been. But it was. My father, who in my book will always be the most knowledgeable sports guy and coach, made teaching me and my brother look effortless. That’s not to suggest he turned us into major-league caliber players, but we were pretty darn good. And it only took me getting hit in the head by a pop up once to remember always to turn my glove the right way. If you use two hands, watch it all the way in and squeeze that glove, there’s no reason to be afraid of the ball. Why I couldn’t get that through my son’s head was beyond me. Trust me when I say it’s not because he’s not athletic enough. He’s a very good baseball player. Let’s just say he’s not consistent yet – specifically with fielding. Even at eight years old, we’d started using the phrase, “two hands would have caught it” during each practice session. To no avail. My frustration level was at its peak. But last month, we had a breakthrough. It was my birthday, and all I wanted to do was play catch with my son. The first thing he said to me before we got started was, “Daddy, I’m not going to drop the ball this time.” He didn’t. It was the most amazing thing. He got “baseball ready” and scooped up every hard grounder, slow roller, trick hop, fastball and pop up I could toss. He was like a human vacuum cleaner. And just like that, the game I loved – which due to my own impatience had grown frustrating – was fun. And my son was having fun. I remember standing there next to my wife, surprised that after 20 minutes he hadn’t dropped a single ball. At the end, he came up to me and asked how he did. “How you did?” I said. “You were perfect. I’m so proud of you.” His smile said it all ... be patient, old man. You are doing the right thing.
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*STEVE GAMEL is the President & Owner of Edit This, a writing and editing services company located in Denton, TX. Steve handles anything involving the written word. Give him a call today to help give your business a clear voice.
*A similar version of this article also ran in the April 2019 issue of Lantana Living magazine.