To put it nicely, my child inherited my athletic genes…which means he inherited none.
And yet, he loves playing sports.
It puts me in a weird situation because my child is “That kid.”
He’s the slowest kid on his team and sometimes he even trips over his two feet.
When he is up to bat, 9 times out of 10 he will strike out.
When the ball gets hit out into the outfield, it would be a miracle if he caught it.
My child is the worst player on the team.
And I couldn’t care less.
Because when he strikes out, he runs back to the dugout with a smile on his face.
When he doesn’t catch the ball, he will pick it up and throw it in as fast as he can.
He congratulates his team members when they make a good play and consoles them if they are too hard on themselves after a mistake.
He listens to his coaches.
He always gives his all, even though his all isn’t always “good enough.”
And after every game, I ask him if he had a fun, and I get the same answer every time: he gives me a huge smile and says, “It was awesome!”
Maybe you think that my child is bringing his whole team down.
Maybe you think that I should make him quit because he will never get it, and maybe he won’t.
Maybe he will never hit a home run or pitch a no-hitter. As long as baseball puts a smile on his face, I will keep letting him play.
And I won’t apologize for it.