We have a little boy in our house who has loved baseball since birth.
See, there he is... in my lap... under that blanket...
nursing happily away while I watched Mister Luke play at age 5.
This was him the following year.
The first word he ever uttered was not "Da,Da" or "Ma,Ma."
IT WAS BALL!
He carried them with him everywhere, threw like a champ and said the word over and over again.
Except when he could play with a little's girl's stroller.
Then and only then, would the ball be relinquished.
He never paid any attention to the TV until the Dodgers game was on.
Then, he would sit on the couch and say, "ball, ball."
He grew bigger and got his own shirts to wear like his daddy and brothers.
Said- thank you, thank you daddy for taking me here!
over and over when Hottie Husband took him to a Dodgers game.
And for two seasons he dressed for every one of his brother's games in full uniform.
All except for that missing cleat.
See how he only has one on that he found in the attic.
We never could find the other one so he happily wore one cleat and one regular tennis shoe the entire season.
Well... this last week.... at long last...
he got to play in his OWN game.
And he sure looked great.
There is some real benefit in sports
to having older brothers
and practicing with their teams.
This was his first at bat.
He eyed the ball and
watched it fly to the outfield
started to run, tripped over the tee,
ran to first base and tripped again on the base.
He still could have made it home because he hit that ball all the way to the fence.
But it's tee ball and they only get to go one base at a time.
The funny this is that Mister Luke hit a home run in his game a few days later and he tripped on third base.
Honestly, they are not running impaired.