There is a romance about it. The crack of the bat hitting the ball, the banter of the crowd, the hot sun and the cold beer and peanuts...it's all good. (The mere fact I don't have to go to the stadium for a religious conference makes it especially sweet. )
It's always a fun day relaxing at a baseball game. My family keeps my sport gene alive, thankfully.
My story is about my little seven year old nephew. He's a smart little guy we knew, but he did not care one bit about learning his letters, words or numbers. Only mild interest was ever shown, and I think he was faking it.
Enter baseball. He is a little guy. They went to sign him up for T-ball, but the coach saw something in him and put him directly into Little League. He has found his passion, he gets it. He is getting the math in the numbers, the words and letters by the players. He comes home from 1st grade and puts his practice clothes on immediately. He loves the comraderie and spirit that comes with being on a team. He is a good little ball player to boot, always scoring and making runs.
I was raised in an environment where no sport or other activities were ever allowed. Thankfully, my niece and her husband are offering this opportunity to their son; I fear things would be quite a struggle for him if he didn't find this outlet for his interest. Phew!
Dodger Dog anyone?