My week’s experience in the world of sports has certainly lived up to “the agony and the ecstasy,” as described by some famous person I would know if I wasn’t completely clueless. There have been some very promising days and some disheartening ones…
So I’ll start with the good. Last we left off, Oliver’s first Blast Ball practice was “okay” and he only hated it about 90% of the time. So I was feeling positive about the future.
I thought it would be a good idea to get him used to the field by having some of our own practices each day. I was only able to fit in two before the first game last Saturday, but that seemed to be adequate.
Our first practice was Wednesday morning and after a brief hesitation, Oliver saw the empty field and was thrilled to play with his new batting equipment. The twins were too since they are three years old and get excited about everything from lady bugs to Target runs. Everyone was happy.
I set up our tee and used an old magna doodle for the base (there is only one base in Blast Ball). First I tried to get the twins to stand in the “outfield” while Oliver was at bat. But they were having none of that. Everyone wanted to hit the ball, so I gave up and just had them focus on that. I could teach fielding another day.
Getting them to run to the base and back was easy once I established some terminology they could understand. Hit the ball! Now drop the bat! Run to the base! Now stomp on it! Now come back come back come back! No this way! Over here! Run over here! Good – you’ve got it! Now stop! Stop! Stop! N0 – seriously, come back! I yelled the entire time we were there. To anyone passing by, I must have sounded like one of those hard core sports moms. I’m not kidding – I was hoarse by the end.
They improved very quickly, but once the novelty wore off, some new distractions complicated things. Oliver discovered that he could climb a tree about ten feet away from where we were playing, and insisted on doing that whenever it wasn’t his turn. Then Eleanor kept wanting to play with the base and George was terrorized by the cloud of gnats that descended upon our shady spot.
Things degenerated after about 20 minutes, but then I did some ball chasing with them like Coach Keys’ drill and figured that we had a great first practice. It was time to quit while we were ahead.
The next practice a couple of days later was less successful – but it was all George’s fault. He had a melt down because I didn’t bring the bat he preferred and during this hysteria, his gnat phobia took on epic proportions. He screamed and swatted at the air as if he were in submerged in piranha infested waters. I had to pick him up to calm him down and this interfered with my ability to help the other two with their batting form. So after a few runs to the base, Oliver played in the tree, Eleanor had a snack and I talked George off the ledge.
At this point, I was a little anxious about Saturday’s game. While Oliver enjoyed playing with his small family, I knew that he would be intimidated by the bigger group of strangers and all of the cheering noise. Pushing him up to the tee would be much like sitting him on Santa’s knee at the mall – depending on his mood and the crowd, it could go either way.
And here is where the bad news comes in. The game was a complete disaster. Instead of taking place on the patch of grass that was now so familiar, we were on a different, more official playing field. And it was ten times more loud and crowded than I had expected. Oliver was terrified.
He didn’t mind sitting and watching – but the suggestion that he join his team sent him into a panic. He wanted nothing to do with it and refused to wear his new shirt and hat. There was crying and even a little screaming when I tried to bring him over to bat. Even Coach Keys’ adorable older son wasn’t able to get Oliver to come out of his shell. He had pretty much shut down.
All parents know their child’s limits and this went far beyond what I knew he could handle. Between his sensory issues that amplified the din of the crowd, to his inability to make sense of the rapid fire directions from the coaches, the entire situation was a recipe for failure.
And while I want to encourage Oliver to try, I’ll never set him up to fail.
So a decision now needs to be made. Do we push through and hope that he warms up to it? Or do we remember that we embarked on this adventure with the attitude that if he wasn’t ready, we’d just drop it? If we quit Blast Ball, does that make us quitters? Or people who do what is best for their kids regardless of personal feelings? And what is the “best” thing for him?
Coach Keys offered to let Oliver just come to practices since that seemed a bit more doable for him. But when I tried to get him to wear his Rattlers shirt yesterday, he ran in fear – like I was trying to drape an actual rattle snake around his shoulders. I have little hope of getting him to put it on for practice today.
Then of course, there is the more practical complication of who will watch the twins while I take Oliver to practice at 5:30. Chris’ injury makes it impossible for him to do public transportation and his driving commute is twice as long. Even if he left early, he’d never be here in time. While I had originally thought I’d be able to bring them with me at this point and just sit with them on the sidelines, that’s not looking possible.
So maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. Maybe it was a good idea, but ultimately not going to work out right now. Maybe our very limited experience was enough. It gave me some incentive to put aside my own distaste for games and put on my coach’s hat. It’s provided me with inspiration for games I should be playing with my kids this summer – ones that will help get them ready for the sports that will be part of their school experience.
As much as I hate the idea of quitting just when I was feeling so committed, I have to remember why I was doing it. This was for Oliver, not me. And it’s looking like he may not be ready. He’s come so far, and I know that he could do this if we went out with his team every day and really worked at it. But practice only takes place once a week – and even with our family practices, that’s not enough.
So unless I can find someone to watch George and Eleanor this evening, I think that we may be leaving this Blast Ball season before it really even started. And for what it’s worth, I’m proud of everything we achieved. Both Oliver and me. We faced some demons, we had some fun and we learned a new game.
Personally, I realized that coaching my child in sports is no different from every day parenting. You provide them with rules and guidelines. You encourage them and praise them. You teach them what you know and learn from them in the process. And you put your own fears and hang ups aside to help them succeed.
And at the end of the day, you throw away the play book. Every child, every family and every day is different. And the old sayings don’t always apply. You often hear that quitters never win, and winners never quit. This is usually a good motto, but I don’t think that’s true for us today. Because I know my team better than anyone else. And a good coach always knows when it’s time to take a player out of the game.
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ELSEWHERE:
On Wishing True…
Thank You Notes to the universe
Elva Fields glamour
On Style Key West…
Bravo Kate! I think it's pretty clear that this season probably isn't the best one for Oliver and that's A-Okay! I feel like a parrot, but I'll say it again – you're such an amazing mom to those kids! They are so lucky – you all are!!!
If he's not going to enjoy it, I'm sure it's better to reign back on it for this season at least. I've never heard of Blast Ball before…
We had a similar situation with swimming lessons and we stopped going. They just were not ready and I didn't want to make things worse by forcing it.
I've been there! Sometimes we have pushed through, and sometimes we have known to fold. I'm never sure what the right thing is, but it has all worked out. We have had some epic, public failures and some quiet victories when no one but us knew how big of a deal it was.
Loved the descriptions in this post.
You've got good instincts for this. So it doesn't work now. You can always try another time down the way. You tried and Oliver tried and that's what's important.
I had a friend that was determined her daughter see through these gymnastics lessons that she signed her up for. She would cry and scream every time she was there and pretty much for the duration of every lesson. I never got the point of that. No one had fun. She was young. What was the big hurry? And sometimes it needs to be about fun. Yes, it's good to accomplish something and do well, but there's something to be said for enjoying it as well…at least some of the time. And there was none to be had with this. Anyway…I've rambled. What I'm trying to say is to trust your gut.
You're a good mom Kate, a great mom. Listen to your instincts, they won't steer you wrong, and right now, it sounds very much like they're telling you he's just not ready.
That's ok, it's more than ok, it's being sensitive and responsive to his needs and current stage of development. Oliver's got his own timeline, just like every other kid out there, and the very best thing he can have is a mom who knows that – who knows when to challenge him and when to back off – and you do.
And if he never decides that team sports are his thing? That's okay too. He can thrive wherever he finds his bliss, whether it's blast ball or basketweaving. Right now it's all about exposing him to new things and exploring options. He's still far too you to stick to any one thing.
xox
Good for you Kate! You're right, you do know what's best and that's what a mother always does for her children! You aren't a quitter and neither is Oliver. There are limitations and probably it's best to let Oliver take it in at a level he's comfortable with. I think you're a wonderful mother… for trying and for learning and for all you took away from it. You're 3 are very lucky!
I think many of us have been there at some point. I remember having to pull the plug on swimming lessons with my oldest for many of these same reasons. I think you made the right decision for Oliver and for the rest of you. This year may not be the one where he wants to give this new thing a try, but maybe one day he'll be ready, and no matter what, I imagine he'll be awesome!
Way to go for trying! Trying things out is so important, when you find the perfect match it will be worth all the effort!
Umm, obviously I meant to say far too YOUNG.
Shoot, I hate when that happens.
You are clearly a great mother. It's so hard when we are "ready" for our kids to do something, but they are not ready for it. I think your idea of turning them into their own little team over the summer for some practices is a great idea. You might even get Oliver to the point where it would be fun to add some friends to the "team" for a few practices, so that he gets used to more noise and confusion and less frequent times at bat. But whatever you do, have confidence in yourself. It doesn't make you a quitter to do what is best for your child; it makes you an awesome parent.
Baseball would be much more exciting with trees and piranhas.
This is perfect. You're so right. It's completely acceptable to acknowledge when something just isn't right for your kids. And who's to say you can't still be Coach Kate for your little team of three?