So Lydia is participating in the Top Gun All-Star All-American tournament in Myrtle Beach this weekend.
Friday is check-in, where she gets her uniform, assorted accoutrements, and meets her team and coaches.
Her mood turns a little sour. “I’m the youngest one on the team.” (It’s 12U, but the girls don’t age out until 1 January, making the majority of the players 12 and 13 years old.)
“You’re here for a reason.”
“The pitchers are going to be fast. I don’t want to catch. Can you tell him I don’t want to catch?”
“Nope, but you can if you’d like” —she declines my suggestion.
The next morning, her attitude is off-the-charts bad. Total mope-fest. She gets dressed, we head to the park, and she’s off to play ball.
After warm-ups, her attitude is turning around. When I ask her about it I get “well I’m not going to be mean to the girls on my team.”
Naw, just the guy that brought her to Myrtle Beach.
She’s caught some, she’s hit some, she’s played outfield. Out of two practice games and three pool games, “Team Blue” has gone 5-0. Bracket play starts tomorrow (for us) at 9:30am.
We load up, everyone is exiting the park, after the last pool game.
“Dad! Dad!” – I hear an adult yelling to one of any hundred of us there.
“LYDIA’S DAD!” I turn around, it’s her coach (for the record, we just met Friday, I don’t know his name either )
“Eleven?!?” he says to me.
I laugh. “In fairness, she does turn 12 next week.”
“You have an amazing ball player on your hands. She could guest play for me anytime.”
As we break right in the parking lot, and she’s grinning ear to ear, I remind her…
“I told you, you’re here for a reason.”
Now time for some rest, so TEAM BLUE can finish this out strong tomorrow.