The Greatest Compliment
I have found that sitting in the bleachers at the boys' games and practices can be painful. Not just for my bum, but also for my ears.
I am regularly subjected to unwanted conversations. For some reason I have a look about me that invites very proud boastful type parents over to tell me how awesome their kids are. I cringe. Not because I don't care to celebrate their child's accomplishments but because the parent who brags about how amazing their kid is usually has a kid who likes to brag about how amazing he is, and (shocker) the kid is actually only mediocre or sub-par.
I smile and nod. And when I have the opportunity I say something like "that's great! My kid just really loves baseball. I highly doubt he will play professionally but we enjoy the game and all the life experiences that come from it."
Then they cringe.
They realize I'm not one of those competitive parents which makes me no fun to talk to. Because how can you have a pissing contest with someone who doesn't need to pee?
In my many seasons of sitting in the bleachers watching America's most awesome sport, I have discovered that the truly great kids are surprisingly humble and their parents are as well. Sure they are proud of their kids but they are not the ones who spend their innings telling everyone who will listen about how amazing their kid is.
Last night was the first night I showed up at the boys' fall ball practice. Matt has been in charge of practices up until then. I spent the first half of practice with Gabe's team avoiding all contact with other parents and then headed over to Eli's field. A few ladies introduced themselves to me and pointed out which kid belongs to them. Oh no, here it goes. They were very nice and spared me any attempts at making me jealous of their kid's skills. They asked who I was there for and I pointed out Eli.
One of the mom's said "he always has a smile on his face. Every time I see him at practice he is smiling".
A man that was sitting in the bleachers who knows Eli from last Spring season said "Eli is such a good kid."
I looked at him probably a little shocked and said "thank you".
The man must have sensed my confusion of why he would make such a statement for a kid he hasn't really spent any time with and he continued "he works really hard and always has a great attitude".
I responded "he loves baseball. It doesn't matter what position he is playing, whether he just did something great or messed up, he loves the game and is happiest when he is playing I guess that shows".
As if I wasn't already feeling proud enough, the man went on to say "Eli was always there willing to help, cheering other people on, the first one to get on the field and do what needs to be done. He's a great teammate".
And I melted.
Good fielding, great hits, an awesome steal, or a phenomenal block are temporal. I highly doubt that Eli will be the one out of the millions of boys around the world that gets to play baseball professionally. But he will most definitely be one that gets the opportunity to use these traits of being a good teammate, of loving something so much that he finds joy in the doing even when it isn't going well, and of working hard with a smile on his face.
Three practices and this one mom noticed that Eli was always smiling.
One season of sitting in the bleachers and this guy noticed that Eli was a great teammate and surmised he is probably a good kid.
Give him one year? How about one lifetime? What will shine through him?
I am regularly subjected to unwanted conversations. For some reason I have a look about me that invites very proud boastful type parents over to tell me how awesome their kids are. I cringe. Not because I don't care to celebrate their child's accomplishments but because the parent who brags about how amazing their kid is usually has a kid who likes to brag about how amazing he is, and (shocker) the kid is actually only mediocre or sub-par.
I smile and nod. And when I have the opportunity I say something like "that's great! My kid just really loves baseball. I highly doubt he will play professionally but we enjoy the game and all the life experiences that come from it."
Then they cringe.
They realize I'm not one of those competitive parents which makes me no fun to talk to. Because how can you have a pissing contest with someone who doesn't need to pee?
In my many seasons of sitting in the bleachers watching America's most awesome sport, I have discovered that the truly great kids are surprisingly humble and their parents are as well. Sure they are proud of their kids but they are not the ones who spend their innings telling everyone who will listen about how amazing their kid is.
Last night was the first night I showed up at the boys' fall ball practice. Matt has been in charge of practices up until then. I spent the first half of practice with Gabe's team avoiding all contact with other parents and then headed over to Eli's field. A few ladies introduced themselves to me and pointed out which kid belongs to them. Oh no, here it goes. They were very nice and spared me any attempts at making me jealous of their kid's skills. They asked who I was there for and I pointed out Eli.
One of the mom's said "he always has a smile on his face. Every time I see him at practice he is smiling".
A man that was sitting in the bleachers who knows Eli from last Spring season said "Eli is such a good kid."
I looked at him probably a little shocked and said "thank you".
The man must have sensed my confusion of why he would make such a statement for a kid he hasn't really spent any time with and he continued "he works really hard and always has a great attitude".
I responded "he loves baseball. It doesn't matter what position he is playing, whether he just did something great or messed up, he loves the game and is happiest when he is playing I guess that shows".
As if I wasn't already feeling proud enough, the man went on to say "Eli was always there willing to help, cheering other people on, the first one to get on the field and do what needs to be done. He's a great teammate".
And I melted.
Good fielding, great hits, an awesome steal, or a phenomenal block are temporal. I highly doubt that Eli will be the one out of the millions of boys around the world that gets to play baseball professionally. But he will most definitely be one that gets the opportunity to use these traits of being a good teammate, of loving something so much that he finds joy in the doing even when it isn't going well, and of working hard with a smile on his face.
Three practices and this one mom noticed that Eli was always smiling.
One season of sitting in the bleachers and this guy noticed that Eli was a great teammate and surmised he is probably a good kid.
Give him one year? How about one lifetime? What will shine through him?
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