The Day We Pitched in the Snow

If your kid has big dreams, you need to show her that you are behind her.  I see far too many parents believing that they can “nag her to the top”.  Be there, be enthusiastic, and know when to be quiet. Let her drive the bus.  Be ready to get out and change a tire if she needs, but do not get impatient and take the wheel. 

What does that have to do with pitching in snow?  I remember a big storm that hit and dumped a foot of snow.  Sometimes the sun pops out the following day and it is actually fairly warm by winter’s standards.  Our daughter wished we could be pitching, there were no indoor facilities in our town, so I shoveled a lane in our back yard.  We had a little fun, realized that each errant pitch buried itself in snow, and vowed to find those balls during the next thaw.

As we walked toward the house, I mentioned that she was probably the only kid in Virginia pitching in snow and that one day those sacrifices would pay off in a big way.  She remembered that for a long time.  Your investment in her means much more than talk.

Over the years, we found more ways to stand behind her.  I remember driving in the Midwest and she wanted to pitch.  Getting off the interstate, we drove around a small town until we spotted the light poles and followed them to a school.  There was a beautiful softball field.  Ah, but the gate was locked.  We climbed the fence and had fun.  She thought it was funny that I might risk a fine, or worse, for helping her. 

Over the years we found some really weird places to pitch.  Our family gave up camping trips for college camps, fishing trips for softball tournaments, I sold my bass boat because we needed to pay for tournaments somehow, and I think those investments demonstrated our faith in her, perhaps giving her more faith in herself.

My question for pitchers is this.  What do you want?  What are you willing to give up to accomplish your dreams? 

My question for parents is this. What does she see in you that quietly shows your faith in her?  It is not how many dollars you spend or how much you nag, but simple things like pitching in snow, sitting on that bucket with bruised shins, chasing errant pitches with genuine enthusiasm that things will get better, and sharing your excitement every time a pitch stings your hand.

The things you do speak far louder than the things you say.