The Exhausted Dad: Play ball… for the first time?

Contrary to what my oldest daughter keeps telling everybody, I fulfilled my fatherly duties teaching her how to throw a ball.

In fact, I taught her how to catch and throw several times, in fact, both with baseballs and softballs. She just doesn’t remember. If not for those years-long gaps in-between the lessons, she’d practically be a fielding prodigy.

Now 12 years old and in the seventh grade, my daughter genuinely surprised me when she signed up to play softball this school year. While I’m totally supportive of after-school activities, I didn’t expect her to voluntarily sign up for an athletic endeavor.

After all, this is the daughter who avoided almost every “fitness day” in gym class last year with various claims of ailments, injuries and mental blocks. “Fitness day” is a class period devoted to running a mile or more, plus various, boring workout-type exercises. I’d try to avoid those days too, but I don’t want her doctor to scowl at her the way my doctor scowls at me when he asks about my exercise regimen.

Sure, softball requires far less running than other sports like basketball or track-and-field. However, I still had to remind her of baserunning responsibilities.

“What is baserunning?” she asked.

Again, I want to reiterate that I’ve done my absolute best to try and get this kid interested in baseball/softball. She’s asked me at least 8,000 questions over the years when I was watching Minnesota Twins baseball games on TV. I’ve taken her to at least a dozen professional games! This summer she went to a Mariners-Twins game and two Spokane Indians games! We talked about baserunning! I’m not a neglectful parent!

After another explanation, she said, “Oh yeah, I can just walk around the bases if I even hit the ball.”

“Are you sure you want to play softball?” I asked again. “Because it’s outside, and you have to move around.”

She nodded confidently. “Absolutely!” she said. “Plus if I play a sport during the term, I won’t be required to take gym class.”

Aha. Clever girl. Of course, she doesn’t know what I know, which is her softball coach is going to make her run far more than her gym teacher ever did.

A few days before her first official practice, we went out to the front yard to practice throwing and catching.

“Go easy on me, I’ve never done this before,” she said.

“YES YOU HAVE!”

Side complaint: Why am I the one out here trying to explain the basics of softball? My wife (her mother) played multiple years of softball back in high school. I never played softball! I briefly played Little League baseball when I was 12-13 years old. The first year I was the oldest player on the team and still about average compared to the smaller kids. In my second year, I was one of the younger kids, and me and this other dude were easily the worst players on the team, playing half of each game, alternating a quiet spot in right field. When I came to bat, no matter the situation, the coach signaled for me to bunt. Because, well, at least I could make contact.

A few minutes into our throwing session, and after I attempted to give her some non-expert suggestions (square up, follow-through, point and look at where you’re throwing, etc.), my daughter finally displayed some muscle memory of the activity.

“Hey, I remember how to do this,” she said. “Didn’t we play catch last summer?”

Yes. Yes, we did. And many summers and seasons before it. I want the credit!

I was nervous for her on the first day of practice, because our sporadic throwing sessions don’t exactly count as softball experience. Yes, she was joining a seventh-grade JV team, and yes, a couple other girls apparently had no other team experience as well. I wanted her to be prepared for the idea that she wouldn’t be one of the more skilled players on the team, at least to start.

“Don’t be upset if your coach keeps asking you to bunt,” I said.

After the first practice, she came home exhausted. Haha, lots of running, I thought. When you try to cheat the system, the system makes you RUN.

Still, she returned upbeat and excited to return to practice the next day.

“Practice went really good,” she told me. “Coach asked us if we had any playing experience or any times we ever played with our parents. I said no.”

If she was joking, I did NOT find it funny.

“Also, she taught me how to throw and catch, and it makes way more sense now compared to what you showed me.”

That comment, I know, wasn’t a joke, because she told her mom the same thing, and may have even added a part about how “I showed her wrong.”

With that I’m officially done coaching my seventh grader. How rude! I am, however, playing catch regularly with her three younger siblings. And after each session, I make sure to say, “You better remember that we did this!”

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Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer, full-time student, and parent to four kids, ages 6-12. He is tired. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.