T-ball: The Coach

You met our Assistant Coach in my last post.


Now you get to meet the brains (and brawn) behind the Washington Nationals....


Drum roll please!


Jeff.

My Dad laughed when I told him Jeff was coaching Pearl's T-ball team. Not because he didn't think Jeff could do this (Jeff did play baseball in high school and watches it all day on Saturdays so he's bound to know something), but because it reminded him of his short lived stint coaching me in softball. Yeah. My team sucked. He laughed and laughed as he reminisced about how horrible our team was! He said he felt accomplished when at the end of the season, I finally stopped chasing the runners around the base with the ball in my hand and threw the ball to a baseman for the out.


Thanks Dad for reminding me of the glory days.


Anyway, none of the other parents volunteered to do anything so Jeff said he'd coach. Little did he know how much running around he'd be doing... lining up all 10 kids to bat (in numerical order because no one knows all their names yet), getting the batter ready, setting the ball on the tee, running with the kids to the right bases, then running back to get the next batter ready until all 10 kids have had a chance to hit the ball. Outfield didn't require as much effort, but he was sweating more than his team of all stars at the end of the game.

 

I think it's so sweet of him to volunteer. But I shudder to think what we've gotten ourselves into for the next 15 years of our lives!