by Korey Troyer
Tyler’s dad arrived early because on Fridays he has baseball practice. Dad always made sure Tyler had a snack, plenty of water, glove and hat along with sunscreen.
On the way out to Dad’s car, Tyler’s radar scoured the landscape in search of Ethan. “Tyler, what are you doing? Did you lose something?”
“I’m looking for my new friend.”
Dad chuckled. “So you have a new friend eh? Wonderful, what’s his name?”
“Ethan. He’s the boy from the playground this morning.”
Dad looked down as his eyebrows crunched together in concern. “Huh? You mean the strange looking boy wearing your clothes? Do you go to school together?”
“No Dad, he’s not from here. I met Ethan at the science museum today. He helped me when I got scared.”
“Uh, okay, sounds fine. Did Ethan move to our neighborhood?”
“No,” said Tyler.
“Then why was he hanging out at our playground this morning? Is he visiting family?”
Tyler dropped his hands to his side, shrugged while cocking his head. “No Dad, he’s on a secret mission.”
“Hee hee hee, oh really?” Dad tried to choke back a throaty giggle. “Secret mission eh? So he’s a spy kid? Perhaps we should interrogate him? You know, give him the third degree.”
Tyler rolled his eyes as they both climbed into the car. “Dad, stop teasing. He’s on a secret mission, for real!”
“Okay, Tyler. If you say so. Pretty cool that your friend Ethan is on a secret mission.”
Finally, they were on their way to baseball practice, always their special father-son time. Tyler bubbled with excitement because Dad always took him to McDonald’s before practice. They pulled up to the drive up and ordered the four piece chicken nugget kids meal with a chocolate shake.
“Awesome Dad!” Tyler said as he riffled through the McDonald’s bag.
Finally, the last remaining Bakugon he’d been praying for all week. Tyler gobbled down his chicken nuggets and apple slices, wanting to finish his meal before they got to the baseball park. He understood the consequences of leaving food in the car in Florida.
One time last year, Tyler had let his McDonald’s sit in the car. When practice ended, Tyler’s hunger overwhelmed him and ate the food that had been sitting in the hot vehicle for hours. He'd thrown up for two days.
“Did you learn your lesson, Tyler?” his doctor chided. “Always eat food when it’s served. Food can go bad if left out. And you don’t want to get sick again do you?”
The baseball park buzzed with the usual activity as Tyler and his Dad arrived. The smell of wet grass and dirt filled the air. Tyler’s cleats rhythmically crunched on the sidewalk as the made their way to field number three. Faint tinks of the bats and the muted punch of a baseball thumped into a catcher’s mitt.
The players filed through the fence, past the dugout and on to the field. Coach scuttled around setting up the tee and grooming the infield, then motioned the kids to the pitcher’s mound.
Dad handed Tyler his glove and hat, patted him on the head and encouraged him to go meet up with his Coach and the other guys.
“Love you Dad!” Tyler shouted as he sprinted off.
“Love you to Tyler!” Dad yelled back.
Dad went on to help Coach prepare for the game. He finished hanging the bats, grabbed the bucket of balls from the dugout and headed to the mound. Dad had stumbled upon the position of assistant coach. One day while helping out, all the kids began calling him Coach, so he'd decided to go with it.
Dad walked up to the players as Coach recapped the last game and got them ready for practice. “All right guys, let’s do some drills. Break out into twos and practice grounders.”
Half the kids followed Coach and the others went with Dad, including Tyler. Baseball had become something special between Tyler and his Dad. Never taking the game too seriously, they always tried to do their best and most of all, have fun.
Practice had begun when a mom arrived, pushing the stroller toward the field. Two tiny hands and two tiny feet feverishly jumped about as the stroller made its way down the path. The boisterous little lady with the curly hair was Tyler’s sister Matilda. The beautiful lady pushing the stroller was Tyler’s Mom. They had just arrived at the ballpark to watch practice. This was now a Friday family ritual, which they all loved.
At the baseball diamond, Mom released Matilda from her seat and she waddled her way on to the green turf of deep right field. Other moms had set up camp in the outfield, as well.
Tyler’s team played like kids years who were years older. They all had coordination, rhythm and ball handling skills far beyond tee ball. He flies caught in-step without the usual ‘duck and cover’ motion Instead of puppet-like or robotic games, their plays unfolded like a choreographed ballet.
The moms’ chatter slowly dropped off as one by one as they began watching the children’s incredible performance. A jaw dropping spectacle! The boys played perfect baseball, without any mistakes or errors.
As Mom stared at the field, a lone spectator on the bleachers caught her eye. The boy smiled as if baseball was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. The boy stared in wide-eyed wonder at the children on diamond.
When practice ended Tyler’s Dad walked out to right field where the moms sat, gesturing in astonishment.
“Did you see that? Holy Cow! They didn’t drop or miss one ball!” Dad said. “I still can’t wrap my head around what happened tonight but it sure was fun.”
The other parents chuckled, though a bit uncomfortably because none of them could really digest what they witnessed. A perfect practice from kids this young? Unbelievable!
The group stood up and silently departed with kids in tow. Tyler ran up to his family with a beaming smile filled with excitement. “Did you see that?” he yelled. “We were awesome! I’m really good at baseball Mom! Ask Dad! I’m really good!”
“Yes, you are really good,” Dad said as he gently patted Tyler’s head. “Hey sport, time to help Coach clean up so let’s kick into gear. I’ll race you to home plate!”
