Life’s Lessons

I was talking to a softball buddy recently and he asked if my boyfriend was coming to watch our game. “He can’t,” I replied. “He has Little League.” “Isn’t that a little young for you, Lori?” my friend asked. “I mean, you should really date someone your own age.” I let out a cackle and told him, “No, he’s not playing on the Little League team, he’s the coach.”

A funny thing happens when I tell people that my boyfriend coaches baseball: the guys nod their heads with nostalgia, remembering summer evenings long ago, spent chasing fly balls and sliding into home … while the women breathe a collective “Awwww, that’s so cute!” Regardless of the initial reaction, the overwhelming response is one of admiration.

Throughout his childhood, Scott played Little League and he was fortunate enough to have his father as his coach. It left an indelible impression on him. Not only because it created a strong bond between father and son (they spent most spring and summer evenings together at the ball field) but also because he learned about teamwork, fair play, sportsmanship, and hard work. Little League was a Petri dish of life’s lessons and his dad never missed an opportunity to cultivate strong character.

A few years ago, Scott picked up the torch. He’s been coaching baseball for about four years, first out in California for a few years and now here in Washington DC. He shares his team responsibilities with a close friend from college and it warms me to see them working with their players and giving so much, so freely.

And, boy, do they give. Games and practices take up four nights a week. The phone calls, emails, and lunch hour errands seem endless. And then there’s League paperwork, financial aid forms, and equipment to take care of. But they do it happily … because they love baseball and they want to be a part of the community. Most importantly, they want to give back some of the valuable lessons that they learned from their fathers.

And the boys are learning. They’re learning that supporting a teammate when he strikes out is just as important as cheering for him when he hits a double. They’re learning that keeping their tempers in check is hard to do, but it feels good not stooping to name-calling (yes, even if the other team is doing it).