Once upon a time my life revolved around a baseball for a few months, then a football for a few months and then a basketball for a few. Then there was a local public swimming pool for the remaining few. Mix in some yard work, riding bikes, finding some pond to fish in or creek to catch some crawdads to take up the rest of the time. The outside was our distraction. I’m almost 46 and just like others around my age, this was the story of our youth.
I loved playing sports (still do) and my father was my biggest supporter. Whatever the sport was, he was my teacher (did it the best he could). My fondest memories are from time spent together in our backyard hitting on the tee and practicing pitching. I can still see clearly the strike zone he built out of a sheet of plywood with a zone cut out and a piece of old carpet hanging behind to stop the strikes thrown. He would keep tally of total pitches thrown and total strikes thrown to give us a strike percentage. I also have strong memories of our time at the local school field and him throwing batting practice and hours of playing pepper. Like many, he is a big reason for instilling a love for the game and helping me improve.
The other day I was looking for something and opened a box which was filled with memorabilia. Newspaper clippings (yep, we are old) from when I played in Taiwan and Japan, lanyards from the AAA All Star game I got to play in, baseball cards, etc. The kind of stuff you forget about but when you find it, it gives you good memories to reminisce on. The game has given me plenty of memories that I’ll forever be grateful for.
After a couple minutes of thumbing through some of it, I boxed it up and put it back. While stuffing it away to collect some more dust it dawned on me that my kids have never seen that stuff (and that’s okay). We have three children, 20, 18 and 15 and the older two were just little ones at the end of my career. They got to see Dad play a little but they were too young for those memories to stick. To them I am just “Dad” and that’s exactly how I want it.
I’ve learned those personal accomplishments I had in the game unfortunately carry no weight when it comes to being a parent. All those promotions, wins, trophies, rings, article clippings, baseball cards and stats literally mean nothing in comparison to raising children. With that said though, many of the mental and character skills I had to learn as an athlete without a doubt have had carryover.
Parenting can be one of the toughest and most rewarding jobs there is in life. At least that’s how I feel about it. With two young adult boys and a daughter working her way towards being a young adult, the process of one phase to the next is a constant learning process for not only them but for us as their parents.
The game not only gives us memories but can help prepare us for things in life much more important.
Founder of Baseball Dudes. Blessed with three beautiful children and an amazing wife. Baseball is my life, after my family, and I love sharing what I have learned from it. Thanks for taking the time to view what we offer here at Baseball Dudes.
