If
you have been following my blog or know me personally, then you know my son
Randal plays baseball. He loves the
game, and he’s pretty good at it, too.
The past few years, he’s played on his middle school team and on league
teams in the spring, summer, and fall.
This summer, he’ll be playing on a travel team.
We’ve become quite the baseball family because it seems that is all we
do from March to October.
Randal during the school team's season
Last
week, my son’s team played in and won their league’s tournament. The championship game was intense. After the first inning, we were up 1 to 0,
and the score remained 1 to 0 until the last inning of the game. Randal pitched the entire game. Let me tell you … that last inning was
nothing short of spectacular.
We
were up first to bat. We go through a
few batters. Right before Randal heads
to the batter’s box, one of the boys on the team got a hit and brought in
another player. We’re up 2 to 0 now, but
we have 2 outs. The bases are loaded.
Here
comes the first pitch. Randal swings and
misses. STRIKE ONE.
Here
comes the next pitch. Randal swings, but
it’s a foul ball. STRIKE TWO.
Now
as a parent, I’m in the stands, and I’m about to lose my freakin’ mind!!!! 2 outs?
2 strikes? I’m thinking there’s
no way in the world we can recover from this.
We’re about to go back to the dugout and hope to keep the other team
from scoring so we can pull off this game.
(Don’t you just love my French?
We / oui … and I haven’t suited up to play a single inning. Lol.)
Here
comes pitch number three. Randal
swings. The ball flies out deep into
right field.
Grand
slam! Let me say that again in case you
missed it. GRAND FREAKIN’ SLAM!!!! Four
runs come in, and we go up 6 to 0.
Another
batter from our team comes up. He hits a
grounder and gets out at first. That’s
the third out.
It’s
the bottom of the last inning. Randal
goes to the mound to pitch. Three
players up. Three players down. Just like that. One.
Two. Three. He strikes out all three players. Game over.
We win.
WE WIN!!!!
I
know this ain’t the MLB. It’s a league
ball game with 10 to 13 year old boys on the field. But lemme tell you something. I couldn’t have been any prouder of my
son. He was calm. He was confident. He was composed. He was under a great deal of pressure, but he
still accomplished what he and his team had been working hard for all season … to
win a championship.
After
the game when I had a chance to talk to Randal, I asked him how he managed to
stay so calm and focused during the game.
To paraphrase, he simply stated he did what he had to do. He told me that he heard all the trash
talking the parents and fans of the other team yelled out to and at him during
the game.
“You
got him now! He can’t hit your pitch!”
“The
pitcher’s getting tired. Hit a homer on
him!”
“He’s
got nothing on you!”
“Strike
him out!”
“Shut
him DOWN!!!”
…
and there were a few other things he told me he heard during the game that I
won’t mention. (On another note, the good
Lord knew exactly what He was doing to shield me from those people and the
comments being made. This Mama right
here would have had a few things to say to those folks. And how are you gonna come to a game and
trash talk about 10 to 13 year old kids?!?!? I
mean … really?!?!?)
Randal
said he took all of that good and bad energy (his desire to win and the
comments of the naysayers) and used it to get him through the game. That energy became his motivation. He never said a word. He never talked back to the other team or their
fans. He just got the job done and
flashed them all big smiles as he walked off the field after every third out.
After
talking to him, why did my heart almost burst with even more pride? My son, in only a way that he could do, had
just become my teacher / motivator.
There was a lesson in that game.
How
many times in life have we felt discouraged or like we were trying to accomplish
the impossible? How many times have we
felt like we had 2 outs, were in the batter’s box with 2 strikes against us,
and the game was on the line? Do we give
up? Do we become afraid and think
there’s no way possible we can do what we have planned or desired to do? Do we internalize the words of the people we
hear screaming for our demise in the background?
Or
do we just keep swinging?
It
ain’t over ‘til it’s over, so just keep swinging. Grand slam.
Game over. Victory.
As
a mom, it is my absolute duty to use the example of this game for the rest of Randal’s
life (lol) to remind him of the lesson he taught me on that championship game
day. Stay calm, stay focused, find your
motivation, and just keep swinging.
Thanks,
son. You always make me proud.
Video of the championship game grand slam. Please excuse the
quality of the video. I got so excited and started to cheer. I forgot
I was still recording (lol).
