I know that nobody believes me when I say this: I could not care less if Noah plays sports. He enjoys drawing and is very good at it. He has played basketball and coach-pitch baseball, but those activities are not his passion. I know a little bit about baseball, and while Noah tries really hard when he plays, right now, let's just say he has a few hitches in his swing. On the other hand, I know nothing about art, but I do know that when Noah draws a dog, it looks very much like a dog. In fact, it looks just like a dog.
While eating out with some friends recently, Noah drew about five or six pictures that were awesome. One of the other dads commented that Noah's drawings were unbelievable. I shrugged and said Yeah, but I am not sure what he does with that talent. It was pointed out that if Noah, at age 7, picked up a basketball and twirled it on his finger and dribbled it between his legs, I would think he was a prodigy. But since I know nothing about art, I don't appreciate his talents.
Whatever! I have crushed him in drawing contests, so how good can he be? Anyway, I bought him some cleats and was pleased that he wanted to play.
About three weeks later, his evaluations were scheduled. It was cold and windy that day. Noah had his new cleats, glove and hat ready to go. He was given the number 45, which happened to be the last number. The kids were all lined up in the dugout, and each got five swings. Noah went last. After the try out, I asked him, what did you think?
I hated it! It was cold and loud!
What do you mean loud? We are outside at a baseball field.
Forty-five kids in a dugout and I was the last one. I had to listen to the other forty-four the whole time. And it was so cold, I didn't want to hit that ball.
Great. We were now committed and he hated it. To make things worse, I volunteered to help coach his team. We were all in!
The teams were selected and we were scheduled for our first practice. On my way home from work on that big day, Cheryl advised that Noah had a tummy ache. Yeah, right, sure he does. Tell him to get ready for practice. He ain't fooling me!
As I turned the corner, I was happy to see my boy all decked out in his baseball gear. I was not happy to see my boy all decked out in his baseball gear throwing up in our front yard. Okay, maybe he wasn't faking it.
I went without him and when I got home, I told him that we had another practice scheduled for Saturday. He was not too thrilled, so I asked him why he told me that he wanted to play if he did not want to play. His reply was predictable, I wanted new cleats!
I explained that he should never do that because now we are both committed to the team and once we commit, we fulfill our commitments. He was not pleased and thought it might be easier if we just returned the cleats. Nope, we are going to make the best of this and you are going to enjoy yourself even if I have to beat you every night!
Saturday rolled around and about an hour before practice, Noah came down with another tummy ache. I told him that he should try to go to the bathroom, but, no matter what, he was going to go to practice. This time, I knew he was faking. But to be sure, I told him that his mommy would come in a separate car and if he felt sick, he could go home. He was still not happy with my compromise so Cheryl called him away to have a little talk. I always know when the kids have told Cheryl something that they don't want me to know; she inserts herself into our conversations and pulls the kids into another room. They think that I don't know what's going on, but I do.
After ten minutes, Noah came bouncing out and was full of energy:
What happened to you?
Mom talked to me.
What did she say?
She said to go to the bathroom.
That's it?
Pretty much.
So did I. I told you to go to the bathroom too, you know.
Yeah, mom says stuff better than you! I'm ready to go play baseball.
Get in the car.
I don't know what she said or how she said it, but he was ready.
It was a beautiful 70 degree day. Although Noah struggled at the plate, he was not bad in the field and he throws the ball pretty well. All in all, he had a great practice. He pointed out that this field was much warmer than that other field. I'll say, it was about 40 degrees warmer. The league should invest in a similar heating system at that other field.
But all did not end well as Noah left his glove at practice. When we went back to the field, it was gone. So back to Modells to buy a new glove.
Whenever Matthew and I go to look at gloves, we spend hours trying them on, comparing sizes, leather, and brands. We do everything but spit in them.
Matthew asked me what size I was going to buy Noah, what brand was I going to buy and what kind of webbing was I looking for. I wasn't sure, but I was looking forward to spending some time with Noah picking out a glove. I asked Noah what he was looking for.
Noah told me he wanted a red one!
I fibbed a bit and told him they don't make red gloves and was happy to see that they did not have any red ones. We tried on several types of gloves and he lost interest after, well, uh, er…...after the first one. Can't we just buy one and go home?
OOOOH look Dad... a red one!!!
You have got to be kidding me! No kid of mine is going to wear a red glove. Thank goodness it was a glove for a left-hander, and it was the only red one that they had. Noah didn't care, he still wanted to buy that glove. I explained that he had to have the glove on the other hand, that this red glove would not work. Noah was willing to try.
This could be a long season. The good news is that we need to make a banner for Opening Day. Fortunately, I know this kid who is a five tool artist. He can draw, he can paint, he can color, he is quick from start to finish and he is creative.
What more could you want from a ball player?
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| Noah's latest masterpiece… At least he likes to draw about baseball... |
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