Monday night, Little Man and his team capped off the baseball season with their final game.
In the top of the second inning, the opposing team takes the field in a flurry of forest green First National Bank t-shirts. Little Man's team is at bat. Sitting nervously eleven little boys chew sunflower seeds in an attempt to keep their nervous energy under control. Between nerves and seeds, the boys enter their second inning.
At his turn, Little Man stepps up to the plate and takes his stance. Sporting grey baseball pants reaching just past his knees, a bright purple State Bank of Cold Spring team shirt, and a cocky grin, he delivers his best evil eye stare straight at the pitcher.
Unfazed, the pitcher throws Little Man his first pitch. It's low. The pitcher delivers another fast ball. It's outside. Frustrated, the pitcher sends off another ball. This time, it's right in there, kind of...
As the ball closes in on Little Man, a split second of terror radiates through his body, and he drops to the ground. Too late, the baseball finds its target right on Little Man's noggin. A hush falls over the sidelines. Princess, Hubby, and I lean forward in our seats. Little Man can either take his base, or get up and bat again...clamering to his feet, he looks to first base and then reaches down and picks up his bat. Little Man took his first hit and bounced back.
This time, his grin isn't quite so cocky, but it's still fixed on his face where it belongs. He takes the stance and waits for the next pitch. It comes in right over the plate, but feeling a bit more cautious, Little Man doesn't take it. Strike one.
Little man again squares up to the plate, ready for the next pitch. Right now, Little Man's world is reduced to him and that ball. Everything else falls away. The pitcher winds up, and sends that ball straight toward Little Man. As the ball rocket's toward him, Little Man's world slows down. Eyes on the ball, he realizes it's barrelling straight at him. Turning his body, hoping to avoid an inevitable collision, Little Man takes the ball in the shoulder blade.
The crowd's not so hushed this time. Little Man slowly starts moving again. As the pain hits, so does the realization that he can either hit again or take his base. With one hard stare at first base, and one hard stare at the pitcher, Little Man weights his options more seriously this time. Decision made, Little Man reaches down and grabs his bat; he's ready to face the ball one more time.
From the sidelines, fans shout their advice.
Come on. You can do it!
Hang tough Little Man.
I can't believe he took it a second time! Way to go Little Man!
Take your base! bellows a voice to my immediate right.
Hubby draws the line. Eventhough Little Man is willing to try again, he needs that one voice to put that slightly cocky grin back on Little Man's face. With that, Little Man takes his base.
It doesn't matter how scared we are; fear is normal. It's embracing that fear and still confronting the situation that defines bravery. Little Man learned that lesson. I'm sure he'll learn it again and again. The top of the second inning of the final game of the season is and will forever be a defining moment in Little Man's big life.
