When we got the call inviting Landon to be on a little league baseball team this fall, I was imeditally excited. No sadness (can you believe it?) that I had a kid old enough to play. For the past five years, when I would think about being a "boy mom", I thought about the many days and nights I would probably spend on the baseball bleachers and I was excited for that chapter for the boys. I knew all of the fun that he would have with this and I was so happy for him.
Landon was so excited to be on a team. He couldn't wait! And although Scott thought Landon was still too young, I convinced him otherwise and Lan-Man was officially a Mudcat!!!
By the end of the first practice, I knew Scott was right...Landon was too young.
The poor, poor Mudcat coaches. To try and teach the rules of the game to twelve 5 year old boys seemed impossible. The little boys were too young to grasp the concept of baseball so instead they played in the dirt...and ran around with their shirts over their heads...and cried...and picked grass...and practiced karate kicks.
Slowly but surely, with each practice the little guys started getting more interested. Bats started hitting balls and balls started landing in gloves. There was still plenty of goofing around, but the kids were starting to "get" it. The more they "got" it the more they enjoyed it. And the more Landon enjoyed it, the more Scott (who, by this time had somehow gone from, "LeAnn, he is absolutely not playing baseball at 5 years old, that's crazy. We have plenty of time for this crap when he is older" to Assistant Coach) and I enjoyed it too.
When it was time for the first game we were all excited! Nana, Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Sissy and Eliot all came to cheer on our little slugger!
I mean, look at that little baseball booty.
Scott found the perfect balance of daddy and coach. I knew he would.
And when it was time for Landon to bat, I could tell my little boy was nervous...
but he took his practice swings...
stepped up to the plate...
And got a hit!!!!!!
And by the time he made it around to third base, where Coach Daddy was stationed, I was maybe the proudest/happiest I had ever been. I couldn't keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks when I saw #28 lock eyes with his hero and his third base coach.
And by the time he made it home? Well, I about done lost my mind.
That, right then, was when I realized that although he may be too young to understand where to stand at the plate, and too young to know exactly how to hold the bat, and he might be too young to keep the dirt out of his glove, he is never too young to feel proud. I am pretty sure the smile across his face proved it to daddy too.
The Mudcats weren't ready for the game to be over...
Until they realized that there was a post-game snack waiting for them...
And this one? Oh, he must have confused "Mudcats" with "Hellcats" because he was only interested in stealing trucks from other baseball tag-a-long brothers. But he still deserved a cupcake. Barely. :)
It's going to be a really fun year!!!Go Mudcats!!!
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