Playing Ball

 

Playing Ball

 

            Daddy loved to play ball. He loved baseball and football and basketball, rolling a ball, bouncing a ball, pitching it, hitting it, throwing it, catching it, kicking it, bouncing it off a nickel balanced on a line of a sidewalk and turning the nickel over from the way he hit that nickel with the ball. Daddy could play any kind of ball game, and he taught all of us how to play ball, but he taught me first, because I was born first. 

            Daddy and I played catch at home in the back yard, and that was fun. And when I got better at it, Daddy taught me how to bat. For batting, you need more room, so no one hits the ball through the window by accident. So Daddy took me to the stadium down the street to teach me how to bat.  He showed me how he batted, and he could throw the ball up in the air for himself, and then hit it! Daddy told me you have to keep your eye on the ball, and when you swing, you swing fast, and there’s a place on the bat that’s a perfect place to hit that ball and send it back out. Probably I wouldn’t find it the first day when I was learning about it, but I’d find it sometime. But before I could hit the ball, Daddy showed me how to swing, and where to swing.

            That part was a surprise for Daddy. When I took the bat and swung it back and forth like he showed me, Daddy said, “Gee, you’re batting leftie. You’re right-handed, and you’re batting leftie.”

            I asked Daddy if I should turn the other way. “No,” he said. “You should bat whatever way feels right to you. Some people bat right-handed, some bat left-handed, and some are switch hitters.  ”

            That was the way that felt good to me, so that’s what I did.

            Daddy said, “It’s good to bat leftie. The other team will be scared of you.”

            So after I got the hang of it a little more, Daddy told me more about batting. “When you bat, keep your eye on the ball,” he said. “Don’t look at me, don’t look at the bat, don’t look at anything else. You’re gonna swing that bat, just like you’ve been doing, but swing it at the ball. Okay? Let’s try.”

Daddy could throw a ball very fast when he wanted to, but he didn’t throw it very fast to me. The first time, I swung the bat, but I didn’t hit the ball.

“That’s okay,” Daddy said. “You swung that bat hard, and that’s a good thing. Just keep your eye on the ball, and you’re gonna hit it. Might not be next time, or the time after, but it’s gonna be soon.”

Daddy was right. It took a little while, but I did hit that ball. It didn’t go very far, but I hit it.

And Daddy kept teaching me, and I got better.

                                                        Kate Lydon Varley