Way back when (our eldest was about 5 and needed glasses, but we did not know it yet), BH regrettably ended up beaning her in the head with the ball and thus she experienced her first ball trauma. This promptly resulted in the gloves being put away.
Fast forward a year and we tried again. This time eldest BD was beaned in the head by middle BD when she walked into the path of the ball. Eldest BD was then again (rightfully so) traumatized and would never again entertain playing catch again no matter how much cajoling and wheedling we employed.
Thus, our gloves have remained dusty and disused, despite that BH and I used to throw the ball around quite regularly BC (before children). BH didn’t have much experience when we first started, so our early days of catch were fraught with danger as he loved to wing it as fast as he could, but had little accuracy which left me either :
a. catching the danged thing so that my hand stung all to hell and my arm was whipped dangerously back into dislocation territory, or
b. chasing after the thing for a mile because he’d thrown it that far and missed me by that much.
Since I adored baseball and had left my team behind, I was happy to keep catching and teaching BH throwing finesse. Finesse, I’ll add, that was gratefully instilled in me by one of Alberta’s greatest coaches of all time, Connie Ingvaldson (RIP). I could go on and on about the Lougheed Rockettes and what a great team they were and how much I learned back in the day, but I digress as this post is really about the BDs and their latest softball experiences.
So, ending digression and fast forwarding to a couple of weeks ago, BH and I had had enough. We decided to get these girls schooled in baseball. It was time.
Out came the gloves and eldest BD was told in no uncertain terms that her enjoyment level was up to her, but she had glasses now and could see and she also had the common sense not to walk into a ball and she *would be* partaking, so suck it up sunshine and we headed out to the ball diamond.
Eldest BD didn’t much care for it (she said catching the ball hurt her hand — which I can understand — she has sensitive fingers which is why she can play the piano so well!), but I give credit where credit is due and she didn’t hissy fit and she stuck to it.
The other two BDs though? They adore baseball! So much that they beg to go and play catch. All the time! YAYAY! The baseball DNA has been carried forth!
Despite the other two’s enthusiasm, eldest BD was still dragging her feet when we went to play, but one night just her and I threw the ball around while the other three played soccer and she realized that tossing it back and forth gives one the opportunity for a pretty good conversation. Since she and I no longer get a lot of time one on one, it was at least a nice opportunity to hang with mom.
Last night, however, was the pièce de résistance. Having honed their throwing and catching skills to acceptable levels, we took the bat with us.
My girls ROCKED the ball diamond. All of them. And eldest BD has discovered that she actually enjoys softball now (maybe even *loves* it) because she likes hitting that ball so darned much!
It was so much fun to play and have fun and goof off with them.
Nothing but good times in the Pater dugout. 🙂
Swing, batter, batter, swing!