There is a touch of magic in the air of a Little League field on a warm night. Boys sit in the dugout wearing their cleats and clean uniforms, their mouths at work on wads of sweet bubble gum. The breeze carries the voices of the players and the laughter and shouts of their little brothers and sisters at play while parents watch the game.
If you play your cards right, you'll catch a glimpse of the joy on your son's face in that moment when his bat connects and he hits the ball into right field. Or you'll see his careful concentration, his body poised as he stands at 3rd base, ready to run home if the batter gets a hit.
A baseball game has a slow rhythm to it, a leisurely pace punctuated by quick moments of sudden action: with the crack of the bat there is a ball in the air, a catch at first base, a runner to tag before he reaches home plate. In that way, it's a lot like your little boy's childhood: fleeting moments of pure magic that seem to pass in an instant.
There is a touch of magic in the air of a Little League field on a warm night. Boys sit in the dugout wearing their cleats and clean uniforms, their mouths at work on wads of sweet bubble gum. The breeze carries the voices of the players and the laughter and shouts of their little brothers and sisters at play while parents watch the game.
If you play your cards right, you'll catch a glimpse of the joy on your son's face in that moment when his bat connects and he hits the ball into right field. Or you'll see his careful concentration, his body poised as he stands at 3rd base, ready to run home if the batter gets a hit.
A baseball game has a slow rhythm to it, a leisurely pace punctuated by quick moments of sudden action: with the crack of the bat there is a ball in the air, a catch at first base, a runner to tag before he reaches home plate. In that way, it's a lot like your little boy's childhood: fleeting moments of pure magic that seem to pass in an instant.
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