Drew started t-ball a few days ago. Now, with four kids I’ve been through this before. Three times before in fact. I thought I knew the drill. I was sure I knew the ropes. Nope. I don’t. He had practice last Sunday. That was a new one. Practice on Sunday. But the coaches explained it was the only day they could get the field for the little kids. Otherwise the older teams get it. Okay. Then, it was also picture day so they were to show up in uniform. They provide uniform tops and we provide the ball pants. No problem. I dig out an old pair of Eric’s or Aaron’s (they could have been Abby’s originally, who knows) pants and throw them on. Put his plain black soccer socks on as they hardly show anyway so what does it matter and his tennis shoes and away we go. Wrong again. We get there and all the other kids (almost all the other kids) are there in name brand pants, name brand socks, name brand cleats, sporting bat bags and brand new bats and wearing batting gloves. They look like miniature pro ball players. And then we get the schedule. The six/seven year old t-ball team travels in a league to other communities. Seriously? If I had known this was the way it was going to be, I don’t think I would have signed him up for t-ball. Things sure have changed in the past 12 years.
I was expecting his team to be playing other teams consisting of his classmates at our local field at the park. No pressure, just little boys learning the basics of baseball, playing in a relaxed environment on a field they were used to with kids they knew. And having fun. Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be about? I just can’t get over watching little boys decked out like pro ball players in all of their high dollar clothes, sporting their high dollar equipment, even wearing batting gloves, (Abby played high school ball and was on a special league a couple of summers in high school and never felt the need to wear a batting glove) walking up to the plate and standing with their back to the plate all ready to hit the ball. Or playing first base, the ball gets hit to left field and they take off running across the to field the ball. They have no idea what they are doing. As it should be at this point. But they sure are dressed nice.
I don’t know. I guess I’m just getting old. I think it’s sad that we can’t just let these little boys be kids. Throw their ball shirt on them, grab their glove and a bat if they have one and off to the field we go. Why do parents today think it’s necessary to spend all this money on stuff? At this point, Drew is thrilled to be using his big brother’s glove. He scrounged up an old helmet and cleaned it up and asked if he could take it and he’s been looking for a bat. I’m sure there’s an old baseball bat around here somewhere if we can only find it. I’m glad he’s six. He doesn’t know the difference between his big brother’s used equipment compared to his friend’s brand new stuff. He doesn’t pay any attention to the fact that his ball pants don’t have that little bright white emblem on them that everyone else’s does. And cleats? Brand new high dollar name brand cleats for a six year old who will be playing six or seven games tops and then will out grow them before next year comes around? Guess what parents – all the money and fancy outfits and equipment don’t make the player. They are little boys learning to play baseball. Just let them be kids and have fun.