I have to talk about last night’s softball game, because if I don’t, I’ll probably explode.
These kids–these cute, sweet, little girls–play so hard. I mean, they get distracted from time to time, and sure, almost every parent goes home with a sore throat, but man. When I say that I am proud, of all of them, I mean that I. Am. Proud.
Yesterday Caleb and I tried changing things in the last inning. Put our beginning players in the key positions of pitcher and catcher. Put our 1st base/catcher/jack-of-all-trades out in center field, pushed Mia over to first base, and just basically switched it up all the way around. No one was really where they were used to being.
We lost the game 6-4.
We found out we had the makings of a seriously awesome catcher in that beginning player. We learned that our all-around infielder can most certainly be called upon to straight own that outfield. We saw that Mia could survive at first base if we really needed her to. And we learned a lot about the things we still needed to work on in practices.
Most excellent highlight of the game? When one of our girls came down the line to homeplate like a friggin freight train–and collided–no–completely CRASHED into the catcher, sending them both to the ground, knocking the ball out of her hand and thus securing her second home-run of the night. But that’s not the best part.
The best part came when the entire team raced out of the dugout to see if she was okay. And that? Just about brought tears to my eyes.
We have some really sweet girls. And, oh, yeah: I think they’re learning a lot about softball and what it means to be team players.
This coaching thing is pretty awesome too.