About a month ago, I blogged about Tristan trying out for t-ball. Let’s just say that the whole experience has been less than fun. Here is why:
T-ball should be a learning experience for kids who are interested in trying out a team sport or learning the game of baseball. Unfortunately, it is not.
When it is 40 degrees outside and the wind in blowing 30 miles an hour, practices should be cancelled. Unfortunately, they are not.
There is no praise for the kids. No “Good Job, Tristan”. Nothing. Just screaming non-stop at kids who don’t even understand the game. One kid ran off of the field when told to “Run home”. Tristan walked around in circles when told to play shortshop because he was never told where or what that was. No explanations, just expectations.
The “coach” coaches a “kid-pitch” team as well, so he’s at the field at least twice as much as we are. That’s how much these folks love little league. For me, it’s just one of the “balls” that I juggle.
Speaking of balls, Kimberlie and I are the oddballs at practices. To fit in better with the other t-ball parents, I would need to do at least a few of the following:
- Get a blue-collar job. So blue-collar that it would borderline red-neck.
- Trade my CR-V for something that consumes much more gas and has much bigger wheels.
- Get a trophy-wife who is a stay-at-home-mom or who works a dead-end job.
- Give up grocery shopping. Apparently all necessary food can be found in the woods.
- Preserve the unetible portions of said food and display them in my home.
- Grow facial hair and a beer-belly and get lots of tattoos.
- Start smoking and communicate using more colorful language.
I’ve discovered that little league system has been designed to nickle-and-dime you. We paid $110.00 for registration, thinking that would be it. It included the hat, shirt, and socks and I was to provide the pants, cleats, etc. No problem. Then they decided that they needed an additional $5.00 to have the letter put on the back of the shirt. If every kid is required to pay that, why not just include it in the registration fees?
Yesterday, we were handed ten BBQ plate tickets and told that if we didn’t sell them all, our name would go on a list for everyone at the ball park to see. What??? If it truly costs $150.00 per kid to run the ballpark (for the entire 3 months of the year that it is operational), then charge us $150.00 up front. Or give us an option to pay more instead of sell BBQ plates.
I told Kimberlie we should consider quitting now and we would only be out $35.00. We paid $115.00 but we could then sell the $80.00 worth of BBQ plates and pocket the cash. She wouldn’t go for it.
Thankfully, I never had dreams of retiring early thanks to a professional-baseball-playing-son.
