Community

Baseball awaits my firstborn: Is he ready?

By JOHN C. COTEY, Times Staff Writer
Published August 24, 2007

His hands looked strong enough to grip a baseball. His arms, powerful enough to whip it toward home plate. His hips perfect for the swivel to get it there fast.

The doctor was smiling.

"Things look good," she said. "Any questions?"

"Yes," I said. "Clearly, all the tools are there. And, sure, we'll have to figure out if he's a pitcher or a shortstop, and if he'll bat leadoff or hit cleanup, but I wondered what you thought: Will he sign with the pros right out of high school or play in college?"

The doctor stopped putting gel on my wife's belly and looked up.

"Well, you don't want to read too much into the sonogram. You might want to wait for those answers."

Thanks, Dr. Killjoy. But wait? I have been waiting, actually, since the day I quit playing baseball - or the day "you gave up any chance of ever being rich and taking care of us in our old age", as my parents like to call it.

Now my wife is three months pregnant, and you want me to wait some more?

That sonogram was four years ago.

Now, my wait could be over. As it happens, New Tampa Little League is currently holding registration for its fall league, which, for the first time here and across the country, is open to 4-year-olds.

My son, Jonathon, is 4.

Play Living-Vicariously-Through-Your-Son!

I mean, Ball.

Or not.

That, as much as it pains me, seems to be the question. The moment has arrived, but it may be here just a bit too soon.

As cute as it was the first time Jonathon cracked a wiffle ball across the back yard, and as enthralled as he gets throwing a baseball right into my glove, I wonder: Is he ready for practices and long games and the kind of boredom that only a grown man can appreciate about the game of baseball?

Is any 4-year-old ready?

The kid can swing a bat, that's for sure. He can throw a ball better than most kids.

But still, he would rather spend his days - like, every freaking one of them - at Dinosaur World, a trip now so numbingly painful I wish the T. rex would come to life and just eat me already.

He doesn't like to wear a baseball cap. He thinks home plate is what he eats his waffles off. He doesn't know the difference between first base and Rob Base.

He was never thrilled with 3-year-old basketball at the YMCA, and I've got three tapes of video footage to prove it, if you ever want to stop by to watch.

He's not ready. He's 4.

His mom, she's a bit older, and I'm not quite sure she's ready either. Doting is her specialty, and watching her boy run from base to base without a water break every 10 steps would kill her.

That is, if her frantic concern about dehydration/exhaustion/skin cancer/torn ACLs didn't kill me first.

"No, honey," I'd say, "he can't hold an umbrella while he's out at short."

"Well," she'd snip back, "can he at least sit on my lap in the dugout between innings while I feed him a fruit cup?"

And to be fair, is Dad ready to jump in? Showing your boy how to keep his eye on the ball in the back yard is one thing; wondering why the kid that is not yours in the green shirt would rather try to eat his glove than catch balls with it, and finding out there's a half dozen kids just like him, that's something different.

I have every reason to say no and find a nice little soccer league and a place to set my lawn chair, to bide my time watching him play a game 4-year-olds are more suited for. But baseball, it tugs at me, and I daydream about the wonderful possibilities and the teaching and learning and mostly, the fun and camaraderie of the dugout.

Okay, sure: those fruit cups in between innings sound pretty tasty, too,

There I go again, nearly talking myself into it.

One day, I'll find out if he can or wants to play, if he takes to game and loves it like his daddy, if all these years making him hold a hot charcoal in his right hand so he would learn to throw with his left pays off.

And if it doesn't, that's fine, too, because life is too precious to waste forcing your son to play a game when he has a 2-year-old brother who might be more amenable. Right now, I'll let him keep being a kid.

But I'll tell you one thing: Soon as we get back from Dinosaur World, we're going to go hit some balls in the back yard.

Times sports writer John C. Cotey, who would really never make his child hold a hot charcoal unless the kid was really bad or something, can be reached at 813 909-4612 or johncotey@gmail.com.

Fast Facts:

Fall Little League Season

New Tampa Little League Fall Season baseball and softball registration is Saturday, from 9 a.m. to noon. It is open to boys and girls ages 4-16. Volunteers are needed to assist with managing, coaching, concessions and field maintenance. Cost is $95 to $105.

Registration will be held at the NTLL complex at 18050 Kinnan St., just off Cross Creek Boulevard, across from Benito Middle School. Visit the NTLL Web site for registration and volunteer forms: www.newtampa littleleague.com. Questions? Call (813) 994-0074.

Lutz Little League

Registration: From 6 to 9 p.m. Friday and final signup is from 9 a.m. to noon Saturday.

Cost: $70 and a concession stand commitment.

Opening day: Sept. 15.

Where they play: 770 Lutz-Lake Fern Road.

Contact: For information, call (813) 949-7757 or visit http://eteamz. active.com/lutzlittleleague/.

[Last modified August 27, 2007, 18:23:35]