One thing this past weekend’s experience with the boy has me wondering is when did I learn how to play baseball?
I’m wondering this because it’s clear that the boy has no idea how the game is played. He doesn’t understand being out, or how to play in the field, or how to run the bases. None of it. And the thing of it is I can’t find fault with his ignorance. When I sit and think about it I can’t really think of any reason why he should know any of it. Last year was the first time he’d played any organized baseball, and the version we played was so far from actual baseball rules that it can only be considered a primer in the sense that we got to bat and play in the field.
The thing is, I’ve never played organized baseball either. I didn’t play in Little League or high school or any rec leagues. Never. I played ‘catch’ with the Father (as he is now so dubbed for blog purposes- I briefly considered “the Patriarch” but; however amusing to myself, it didn’t seem like a good fit) a plenty growing up. He also used to pitch to me in our backyard. I even remember having a black, Pete Rose baseball bat that I beat to death. I remember practicing batting by hitting rocks across the road with it. That did a number on the bat.
But I don’t ever remember having baseball explained to me, and yet I also can’t remember ever not knowing how to play baseball. For that matter, I don’t really remember having any games that we played explained to us. I can only assume that I just learned by watching other kids play, or by jumping in and figuring it out on the fly.
So how to relate to the boy? Initially, I’ve been assuming that he’ll figure the game out by participating and observing. The catching, hitting and throwing(the physical aspects of the game), he’s picking up on just fine. But he isn’t picking up on the rules of the game at all. He’s not alone either as a number of his teammates’ fathers have also related similar experiences with their boys. Yet all of them also understand how to play baseball. But this isn’t the case for all the boys- some of them definitely understand how the game is played.
Perhaps it’s a result of him not watching a lot of TV generally, and sports in particular. But I can’t really remember sitting in front of the TV watching sports other than football; though, perhaps my memory is failing me here. By the same token, the couple of times we’ve tried to sit and watch a game, he hasn’t really shown much interest in watching. Not that I can blame him- regular season baseball is tough to watch. Plus, most times the games are on at bad times- like after his bed time, or during the afternoon on a beautiful day.
Given his game schedule (two games a week), I’m confident that the situation will be largely rectified by the end of the season. But I can’t help but feel like I failed him in some small way here. Sure, baseball is hardly the most crucial part of growing up. But at the same time, it was clearly a part of my growing up and understanding it is crucial to being able to appreciate why football is a vastly superior sport.
A final interesting thought- will he find himself in a similar situation some day? For that matter, perhaps I don’t remember my own childhood correctly and the Father was wondering similar things while I was growing up. If that’s the case, then it isn’t a kid thing. It’s a parent thing.