Summer travel

Jack had a baseball tournament in New Jersey over Memorial Day weekend. Expectations were relatively modest, I think partly because of the way our players got clobbered in the Spring Travel season. But we showed up ready t o play the first day, and indeed it felt a little like Spring -- rainy and cold.

Our first game was against a pretty decent team, but we played OK and ended up scoring 4 runs in the final inning to tie it up. Jack, who struck out, I think, his first time up, and had a slow roller ground single his 2nd, drew a walk during the rally and made it all the way around to third on a couple of steals with what would have been the winning run. But we didn't get the hit and it ended in a tie.

It was muddy and wet, and the kids were a mess, but they were pretty happy after a loss turned into a tie. We had a second game to play, and that one was ruder -- they clobbered our pitching, we didn't play well in the field, I am pretty sure Jack was too far from the plate and didn't get any hits. Didn't handle a catchable fly ball, either. We all left in a sour, tired, and wet and muddy mood, what with being rained on for half the night.

And after Jack's second strikeout, I said to him, you weren't too far from the plate that time...your feet might have been too far apart. And he gave me a pained, frustrated look and said, "It's always something."

In the car going back to the hotel (team dinner cancelled due to muddieness) we were all pretty glum. Well, not Kate, who had run around playing with other little sisters. We thought, is this what the travel season will be like? Is there a point to this if Jack's not having fun? How can I help get him back on track?

But then we had dinner out with the other coaches and their kids and a couple of wives, and for the most part the game was forgotten -- especially by the kids, who laughed and joked and ate chicken fingers and ice cream. We rolled back to the hotel, went to bed, and would wake up into a new day.

And on Sunday, I said to Jack, I am not going to give you any more advice during the game. I know it's hard getting 5 different people telling you what to do. Get comfortable at the plate and do your best. In the field, be ready. Have fun.

Before the game, they had a batting practice. Jack came back from his turn in the cages and said, "Coach said I did everything perfect!" I said, Great! Bring that to the game.

In Jack's first at-bat, a couple of pitches in, there was a loud crack (metal bats, but crack is all I can think of) as he hit a line drive single up the middle that was as hard and as well as he's ever hit the ball. It started a rally that took us from 3-2 down to 8-2 ahead. In his next at bat, another crack, as he roped the ball to left field for a double. Probably his 2nd best hit. Knocked in a run. We ended up winning 15-5, and the kid was all smiles, happy as I've seen him in a baseball game since last year. Relieved, probably, too.

First, it was great to see him happy. Smiling on the bases, a little fist pump after he made a nice play to get an out while filling in one inning at second base.

He played the whole spring without getting any moments like that (we didn't play many games and lost all of them). So this was a big change.

Second, it was great to see him do well, and hear the talk from coaches and teammates. Way to go, Jack! Stay hot, Jack! Teammates clapping him on the helmet and back when he came in. Just a couple of beautiful, glorious hits. Talking to the coach later, admitting I was afraid he'd be dropped in the lineup after the rough game, saying, I almost said to you, I know Jack is struggling right now, but don't give up on him. So I'm glad you didn't.

And third, it was nice after the game, with one coach kind of absently giving him a smile and a pat on the head, and the other, in post game comments, saying, "I want to mention Jack Richardson, who really swung the bat well. Nice job, Jack." Sometimes Jack might make a goofball face, but this time he just kind of smiled proudly, quietly. Kids: "Jack-ie!"

Afterward, I spoke to the coach who had praised him after the game, just saying, thanks. And he said, "Well, I know how hard he's working."

I realized then that that's what made me happiest, too. I know how hard he's been working. I know how much advice he's had to take in, how much frustration he's had a times, and how tough it probably was in the spring. How he wasn't having much fun playing something he actually loves to do.

I know how hard he'd been working, and it's always pretty great when that pays off.