What a Difference a Year Makes

My son had a T-ball game this morning.  As the innings progressed, I was pretty impressed with how much he has improved since last year.  Granted, he was only three and a half years old last season, the youngest player on his team.  He also didn’t know anyone on the team, whereas this year there are four other friends from his preschool on the team.  But still, he has gotten a lot better.

Last year he threw the ball underhand.  This morning he threw the ball overhand from short-stop to the dad acting as the first-base coach well enough that the dad could catch it.

Last year he took the bat with him to first base in the first games, and then moved on to flinging it hazardously later on in the season.  This morning, after hitting it pretty hard for a four-year-old, he simply dropped the bat and ran.

Last year, after learning that you were supposed to “tag” the runner, he began tagging/tackling the runner even when he didn’t have the ball (and he usually didn’t). This morning, he stayed on first base and waited for someone to throw the ball to him before tagging the runner properly.

Last year the field turned into a big sandbox after the first inning.  This morning, he stayed in the game all three innings.

Last year, at the first practice of the season, the coach told him to go to the end of the line after his turn. My son started wandering the field, looking sort of lost.  I thought he must have to go to the bathroom, so I hopped off the bleachers and went to check.

“Are you looking for the bathroom, buddy?”  He shook his head.  “Then what are you looking for?”

“Mom,” he asked, looking confused, “what’s ‘the end of the line’ mean?”  I burst out laughing and showed him the end of the line.

This morning, when the coach told the team to line up to give their opponents high fives, he did not get in line like the others but started wandering the field.  Well, he’s learned a lot since last year, but he still has a lot to learn.