Crash! Glass Shatters!
4 eyes stare at me… mouths agape … waiting … waiting … for my reaction.
“Atta Boy Cooper! Finally!” I exclaim.
Huh. Incredulously, my 6-year old slugger and 8-year old shortstop look at me like I’ve gone crazy.
“Um, Dad, you’re not mad that I just broke a window?” says the line drive hitter.
“Heck, no, for the past two weeks, I’ve been telling you to wait for the baseball to get deep into the zone. You’ve been jumping at everything. Too eager. Not that time. You let the ball travel. You hit it off your back foot. And, you squared it up. So, we have to buy a new window. That’s part of it. You. Must. Stay. Back. Trust your hands. Got it?” I explain.
“Unbelievable” says the pony-tailed softball phenom under her breath, “Not only is he not in trouble, he’s getting congratulated for breaking a window? Well, fine, I’ll go spill Chocolate Milk on the Living Room carpet. That’ll probably earn me a trip to Toys R Us.”
Cooper smiles. Delaney shakes her head. I peer over to the window surveying the damage.
“Okay, pep talk you two. We do NOT tell Mom, got it?” says the former Coach-now-turned-Dad/Husband.
Delaney rolls her eyes, “Now, how in the world are we going to keep her from finding out about a shattered window? Are you going to fix it?” She laughs.
“Yeah, Dad, you can fix it. You can fix anything,” says a very supportive Cooper.
“Cooper, seriously. Have you ever met our Dad?” says a more realistic Delaney.
“Um… Dad, actually, what are you going to do? You’re not the best at fixing things,” states a now more realistic Cooper.
“It’s a Double, you two,” I say in a relieved tone.
An all of a sudden greedy Cooper barks, “Wait a minute, I thought a hit off the house counted as a triple.”
I assume the dual role of Score Keeper and Dad, “It does. By the way, 2 runs scored on that. But, I meant it’s a Double Pane window, and well, only a Single pane broke, so we’ll just clean up the glass, toss it in the trash can, and move on. Everyone cool with that?”
Delaney is clearly not happy with the Scorekeeper role, “I’m cool with everything except the fact he gets 2 RBI’s on a hit that breaks a window.”
Cooper continues his evolution from petrified to now very confident, “I’m cool with all of it.”
A dumbfounded Delaney chimes in again, “The 7th inning started with me up 1 run and 0 broken windows. Now, I’m down 1 run, your down 1 window, and Cooper gets a High 5 for all of this? Okay, let’s get this half inning over with. I’m ready to stick. I’m sending one into the living room. We’ll be getting Ice Cream tonight for sure.”
“You do that into the NEIGHBOR’S living room, and you got a deal,” says the very mature 37-year old; that’s me by the way.
A very naive Cooper asks, “Which neighbor? The Cardinal Fan or the Cubbbbbb … Fan. Ooooooooooooh, forget it. I got it.”
Cooper swings at the first pitch as the game starts back up, “Yeah, I got it too.” Pop up lands in Softball Mitt. “Give me the Bat. I got last licks.” says a revenge-minded (and witty) Delaney.
Game ends with Delaney plating two in the bottom of the 7th to win 3-2.
She did not hit any balls into any living rooms. Danielle (aka Mom) did find out about the window that evening only because yours truly put the darn glass shards on the top of the trash inside the big garage can. Delaney looked at me when Danielle found out and said “You’re a genius, Dad.” She’s right. I fixed my 6-year old’s swing. What’s more important than that???!!!
Sincerely,
Coach Dad
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jeff Smith is a Dad first, Coach second. A former Sportscaster and Play-by-Play Announcer, he lives to give his kids the true spirit of sports and a strong foundation as truly good people. No matter what his career path, his priority has always been clear: his family. This site has been lucky enough to have him writing his regular Daddy Diary since its inception.
To connect with Jeff, find him on Twitter.
For more of his incredible writing… read on:
Courage, Size 6: Lessons from the Sidelines
The True Rules of Soccer and Life
The Road to U.S. Citizenship: An American Perspective
A Coaching Philosophy to Live By
Holy Sh*t!
I’m scared. And Frustrated. Today is a Bad Day.
“Dad, are you mad?”
The Lake St. Louis Angels are a group of 7 and 8 year old softball players, of which my daughter is a part. Yours truly is one of the coaches. I entered the team in a “club level” tournament in a neighboring county, about an hour round trip commute from home to Field 6. The Angels are a “rec” team meaning it’s a group of friends that like playing together. This weekend’s competition includes teams that were “hand selected” to find the best 12 players for their team. I don’t begrudge this type of team. I think there are a time and a place for a “select” team. I’m just not ready to commit my 7-year old to “select” softball quite yet. (This is where this post could go in a different direction, but I’m saving that type of discussion for another day). Now, that you have a quick idea of who the Angels are and what they’re up against, I’m going to take you to Game 1. Friday Night.
If you started reading this post at the top, you now know that the score is tied after 7 innings which means “extra innings” because well, this is the Championship Game, and the scoreboard must dictate a winner. Our team runs off the field and straight to me. I stop them in a group huddle prior to entering the dugout. I say to them “Angels, I’m so proud of you. You’ve taught me a lesson in never, ever giving up, not ever. And, I’m here to tell you that no matter what happens in the 8th inning and/or beyond, you all deserve a high as the sky, where the Angels live, High 5.” One of the little girls looks at me and asks, “Coach Jeff, do we get a trophy if we lose this game and finish in second place?” “I’m really not sure ladies, but it’s not about the trophy, it’s about how far you’ve come since Friday. You’ve shown everyone what you can do.” Then, they all just glared at me, like I insulted their talent level. One of the girls gets right up next to me and says “Coach Jeff, we’re here to win. Who bats first this inning?”
First hit of the bottom of the 8th is a line drive scorcher two steps to our shortstop’s left. Our shortstop is Delaney. She snags it. One out. The smile is back. (Special thank you to the Dad that pumped her up…he knows who he is, and I’ve thanked him a thousand times in the past week). Inning ominously progresses. Bases are now loaded, two out, so championship run is only 60 feet away. Are you ready for this? One hop smash to the pitcher’s left (Emma), she gets a small piece of it, re-directing it to the second baseman, Maddie, who throws to Libby, our first baseman to get the runner by a half step. Holy Angels up on High!!! I look to the heavens and cannot believe what just happened. I half expected a real angel to be standing in front of me. What I got were 12 of them looking at me, completely mute, waiting for instructions. That’s a miracle in itself. One of them just said “Okay, Coach, we held them like you asked us to do, now what? 9th inning, right? Who’s up? Let’s end this thing.”
During the Intermission, my date and I talked about High School. She wouldn’t stop asking questions about my High School experience, and I asked her questions about her schooling. She’s very smart with much to offer to the conversation. I was thoroughly engaged. It turns out she’s a very good singer, but is a bit shy in public. Very cute.





