T-Ball Bliss

Cole's lifelong dream of playing baseball—or really any sport involving a ball—came true this spring. 

It was our first season of T-Ball, in which we decided the "T" should stand for "totally adorable" or something, because that's all it really was: being cute made into a sport. For starters, Cole's team name was the Grasshoppers (which he initially mixed up and called the "Crickets").

And the gear alone, right? It was hard to find these pants small enough. I'm not sure how he got the grass stain, but it probably wasn't from playing T-Ball.

I never did find small enough socks, so they were usually a puddle around his ankles after running a base.

And the ball bag was at least as tall as he was.

The helmets must be heavy too, because when Cole ran in one, he ran like a bobble-head. No matter how many times Rich told him to "Run like a dog is chasing you," there was still more head action than anything else.

The first few games had some hilarious moments. Like when one hitter ran to third instead of first, or when after the other team scored a run and our kids started running the bases too. Or when Cole did this with his helmet:

If you asked Cole what his favorite part of T-Ball was, he would have said the snacks. At least when his mom wasn't in charge, that is. Being one of the first parents to bring the snack, I assumed that popcorn and oranges would be adequate. But this proved to be subpar when subsequent snacks were more like care packages with seven different nutritionally balanced items and color printed labels with each child's name and number. Whatever, overachievers! All this did was make my other kids fight over them. But it did start an ongoing joke between Rich and I about what less appropriate snacks we could have brought. What would these parents have done if we passed out monster drinks and beer nuts, for example?

But T-Ballers suffer from none of this competitive turmoil. In fact, when it was our turn to bring the snack, Cole asked if I had brought enough for the other team. At first I thought he was being generous, but when the game started, I realized he just didn't get the competitive thing. He would stand out there at third base and strike up conversations with the other team like he was on a deserted island or something. "Hey, you're FAST! What's your number? I'm number six. High five!"

This is not what it looks like, I assure you. It had something to do with numbers.

But I guess that's what you get with T-Ball, where there is no score, few rules, and everyone is cheering for you from both sides. I'm not aware of a more positive and encouraging environment anywhere.

Cole's biggest fan base, though, was his own family. My favorite moment of the season was Cora trying to get in on the huddle.

She was not pleased when her access to the players was restricted.

Luke faithfully attended the games as well, but he was usually off making friends and entertaining himself elsewhere.

Jack offered good advice, when he was not playing in a game himself, or distracting others with the inexplicable Santa hat.

Fortunately, Cole has another year of T-Ball before he transitions to the Little League world of overly-ambitious parents and angry coaches. 

Yes, real life can wait.