I want to strangle Malcolm’s baseball coach. Not strangle from behind, chop into little bits and feed to the cat, like we do with the UPS driver. No, I want to strangle the coach almost to the point of asphyxiation, only to bring him back so that I can tell him what 3 and 4 year olds are like. We signed Malkie up for baseball and soccer classes this summer in the hopes that Malcolm would learn an appreciation for team sports, but I am deathly afraid that the coach is going to ruin everything. So in an effort to avoid having to do him bodily harm, I am going to offer a few suggestions to him.
First, preschoolers don’t know anything about baseball. If they are standing at home and you tell them to go “hit first,” they are more likely to slug the person next to them than touch first base. I suggest yelling, “run straight ahead and touch first base with your foot!” They also don’t know what “tag him!” or “tag the bag” mean. I suggest a little bit more clarity in these instructions as well. They will definitely not understand you when you say, “if you get to first before the other team throws the ball to the first baseman who steps on the bag, then you are safe, otherwise you are out.”
Second, preschoolers have an attention span of 3 seconds. It’s a fact. If you are trying to get the batter to hold the bat properly, take a wide stance, and take a few practice swings before eventually hitting, don’t be surprised that, when the ball is actually hit, the third baseman is now chasing a grasshopper and the second baseman is lying down playing in the sand. Yelling their names and asking them to get back in position won’t help. To keep them focused, each drill should take no more than a few seconds, or you’ll end up trying to herd kids (much in the same way you would herd cats) back into organization.
Third, don’t bother with any small talk. If you start the day (at 11 am, mind you) by asking if everyone had woken up, you’re likely to get the answer that Malcolm gave, “I had yoguwt for bweakfast, and waffles. My shoes are reawy, reawy fast.” I know that you wake up late (last week you showed up hungover and 30 minutes late, but kids don’t really need to be sweet talked, just get ‘em playing.
Fourth, some people have accents. When woman of some sort of asian ethnicity says that the white, blonde haired boy’s name is “Sum,” you might want to factor in that the woman is the nanny, and boy is named Sam. If you don’t you will be calling the boy, “Sum” all season long and the other parents will giggle at you.
Fifth, preschoolers don’t need to play simulated games. They merely need to be introduced to the major elements involved and taught to enjoy themselves. Today, “Coach” explained how a game worked and then was sooooo satisfied with his work that he quizzed the kids, “So Devon, what do you do when the ball is hit at you?” A minute or so passed before another kid yelled, “firefly!” and then the left half of the infield went and asked their mommies for water. When “Coach” tried to bring the left side infielders back, the right side infielders went skipping into the outfield, while the kids on the bench gathered around the tee and started jumping on it. The batter, then tried to use the bat like a riot shield and push the bench kids back into the dugout. The parents giggled. Next time, just do group activities designed to help the kids learn to run, catch, throw, and hit. They will learn the thrill of an actual game later. That is, if they aren’t too many butterflies around.
Loading ...
Oh my! The "get on the bag" parenting has begun!
I'm an adult and I don't understand those instructions… I would love to see your coach teach Malkie how to play cricket!
So when is the first game you will be coaching?
Should we send down a shock collar?
Wait until the first grounder bounces up into the nuts and the coach yells "suck it up, Willie"!