It was quite the day.
Not necessarily a long day, but a different day that was in
the works for months.
It was hot, windy, and humid. Like, really windy. Everyone needed that constant fan throughout
the day to help make it manageable.
The emotions were high and the emotions were low. All day.
And then, it was all over.
As I wiped off all the dirt and sweat thinking that my
sunglasses tan, farmers tan, and sock tan might just get wiped away because I
was covered in dirt, I thought of every aspect of the season and our team. We really were a team. We worked together like a well oiled machine. We learned to play together. We cheered together. We managed to become a great team because
nobody could tell us differently. And
after today, only to never be able to have all of these girls together on the
same team again.
Everyone works so hard all season long. These girls learn so much from you and you
from them, good and bad. Practices start
months before the first game and you keep teaching and they keep learning. Then you play and see where you really
are. Sometimes you come out on top and
sometimes not. Throughout the process
you try to teach them sportsmanship while that inner self really wanted another
mark in the win column.
Game day proves to be different for each player. Before each game I fix my daughters hair in a
French braid and a bow. Her uniform of
the shirt, shorts, sliding shorts, black socks, slider, and shoes are neatly
stacked and ready to go. Simply put. Then there is the player that never once put
her hair up to play ball all season long (not because we didn’t try), but she
was dressed and ready to play every game day by noon. They all had a different routine that worked
for them, to get the job done when they came together as a team.
As the season progresses, you work on so many different
aspects of the game. You work on what
you lacked in that last game and build on what you have. You wonder if your players will ever pick up
what you are putting down. How many
times have you told them the same thing?
Fingers up. Throw it to their
numbers. Down and ready. Glove on the ground. Hands at the ball. Power thru.
Round it and look. If there is a
pop fly, tag up. Steal. Go!
And then there are the questions they ask you… numerous
times. Am I up coach? Should I put my helmet on now? Which helmet should I use? Which position am I playing? Where’s that?
Can I pitch? Is the game
over? Did we win?
The actual game wasn’t the only thing on the players’ minds. They had cheers to do. At one point in my coaching career, I wasn’t
very fond of the cheers and didn’t allow them much. The following year, I let them cheer as much
as they wanted. My own daughter had a
“cheer book” that she took to most games early on for those players that didn’t
know them yet. She browsed the Internet
to find as many as she could. My
cheering teams were much more into the game than my non cheering teams. They knew immediately when a ball was
pitched, who was up, who was on base, if a batter got hit; everything had a
cheer for it. Catchy cheers that I often
get stuck in my head for hours.
Then tourney time.
Everyone is a black horse in the tournament. You never know when these young players will
finally peak. After a rough season and
then two wins into the tournament, I felt my team was peaking at the right time
and I told them so. Then I asked them if
they knew what “peaking” was. Not a
clue. As a coach, you sometimes get the
feeling like they are looking at you with no idea of what you are talking
about. Explanations are needed more
often than not and as a coach, it’s your job to do the explaining.
I explained to my team how a double elimination tournament
worked and they still asked how many more games we had to play while we were playing
in the championship game. And sometimes,
they are just worried about the medals. If they lose this game, they’ll still
get a medal, right?
Then it was my daughters turn to wipe off all the dirt and
sweat. She took her medal off. She started unwinding her braid. The only thing on her mind now was wishing that
her hair was always wavy like that.
How simple the day was to her.
The joys of being a parent and coach.
Thanks for sharing your daughter with me this summer!