The Sand Gnats dress out in green and white, with a pink helmet and pink shoe laces here and there distinguishing female from male batters. The Lug Nuts wear red and white, accented by their own touches of pink. The tallest players are rising first graders; the smallest are “underclass person” pre-schoolers swallowed up by too-big caps which slide over their faces, and too long pants which meet their shoes. The two teams meet for t-ball battle on one of the playing fields at Ecton Park. Cheering them on from the bleachers are moms, dads, brothers, sisters, grandparents, friends and pets.
The spring time ritual is one of the first in a long line of organized team sports available to children these days.
Here’s what I have learned so far as a t-ball grandmother:
•Be careful when you’re coming up for bat, and practicing your swing. The weight of the bat and force of the swing can find you spinning around in circles, perhaps landing none-too-softly on the rear end of your white pants.
•Hitting a little white ball which is sitting on a tall plastic tee can be a challenge. Sometimes, even when you’re trying hard, you just hit air. Other times the ball just spurts off to the side, or even behind, and there is not enough time to get to first base.
•Sometimes being on defense gets tiresome, and it just seems better to play with the dirt, or balance your mitt on top of your head – or wave to the people who love you in the stands.
•Marching by the opposing team to give high fives at the end of the game isn’t necessarily that much fun, but the coaches say you’re supposed to, and you just do it — like it or not. It’s called being a good sport.
•Everyone always gets two times at bat, and then the game is over.
•There are lots of people to tell you when you can run the bases and when you can’t, but you’re still the one that has to do the running, whether you’re fast or slow or medium.
•Everyone is for everyone else, and pretty soon, knows everyone’s name —“Go Will!” “Yea, Drew!” “Way to go, Sam!” “That’s OK, Johnnie. You’ll get it next time.”
•People are having fun, laughing together, getting to know each other, and looking forward to the next game.
•There is always a next game.
•Most important of all, at the end of the day, is the team and the game they love. All of the tired, dirty players sit down together with the coaches, talk a little about the game, grab hands to remember what being a team is all about, and then have snacks and juice.
One of the grandfathers noted the other day that t-ball is the best part of all the organized team sports. “Everyone enjoys it so,” he said. “They cheer for every kid, and want everyone to be successful, and have a good time. All too soon, they’re into the level where fun turns into competition between the adults about who’s best, who’s right, and who wins.”
After the ballgames, everyone meanders across the grass to the parking lot, following the little guys, who by then are a blur of green and red buddies, who don’t much care who’s a Sand Gnat and who’s a Lug Nut. It’s great theology.
Watching them, I thought about the little book that was so popular a few years ago — Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. It was suggested that if people really lived by those rules – from holding hands while crossing the street to the nap part – that families and governments, businesses and churches, everybody, really, would come a lot closer to following another set of rules called The Ten Commandments, and having peace in our hearts, our homes and our world.
It occurred to me that if anybody missed the kindergarten part, it’s not too late for the theology of t-ball.
I, for one, am ready for all of the tired, dirty players to sit down together, talk a little about the game we all love, grab hands to remember what being a team is all about — and then, have snacks and juice.
