Isaac had a great game the other night. Well…as far as winning goes, not so great. But as far as HIS pitching goes, fantastic.
Of all the sports my kids have played, I can watch baseball endlessly. I love it. I love being outside, summer evenings, the little kids playing in the dirt and begging for money from the snack bar. Most of the time I can’t watch the entire game…Jeff and I take turns chasing Patrick, but just being there is enough for me.
I am so proud of this kid. He’s half the size of his peer group, and if you don’t think that’s a big deal, you don’t know sports. Last year, a kid who weighed 3 times his amount collided with him while he was at 2nd base, and I swear it looked like a cartoon. Isaac flew up in the air, touched the moon, and landed flat black down in the dust. The entire baseball park gasped and I seriously thought we’d need an ambulance. He shook it off, and stood back up and kept playing…with a smile on his face. These other kids are men, really. He never shows that it bothers him in the least, and doesn’t use it as an excuse. And he’s just as good.
We are proud of you, buddy.