The Try-out

The Try-out

         “Mom! Mom! I’m gonna be on the team!” Zack’s face beamed as he rushed into the kitchen where his mom was preparing dinner.

         “Whoa, there--what team?” Lauren smiled at her beaming child. Zack could instantly get excited about the smallest thing. “Slow down and tell me what you’re talking about.”

         Exasperated, Zack put his hands on his hips and chose his words carefully. “It’s the baseball team being formed by the downtown Rotary Club.”

         He pulled a crumpled flyer from his front pocket and thrust it forward to Lauren. “It’s all right there Mom. They need kids to be on the team. I’m gonna be on a baseball team!”

         Lauren took the crumpled piece of paper from the beaming seven-year-old. She knew how much he loved playing baseball. The only problem was that he simply was not very good at it. She recalled when he was five, and played on the neighborhood T-ball team. Zack had been the only child who consistently struck out—a difficult thing to do when the ball is sitting there patiently waiting to be whacked. And, Zack had another problem. He was slow. Not mentally—he was sharp as a tack mentally. No, he was simply slow. His awkward little run was just a fast paced walk. Oh, he did all the motions right; he just didn’t go anywhere. Despite Zack's lack of talent, his father, Doug, had been so proud of him. They practiced hitting the stationary ball in the back yard until he finally got the hang of it. But, regardless of how much he practiced, Zack was still slow. However, that did not matter to the boy or his father. They were playing ball; that was all that mattered.

         “Honey, I don’t know. It says here that there will be try-outs for boys seven through nine years-old. You’ve gotta try-out for the team, Zack. There are only so many spots, and there will be so many boys.” Her heart melted as she looked at her child’s face so full of expectation and excitement. “OK, Honey, we’ll go down to the try-outs. You never know.”

         “Thanks Mom; I love ya. I’m gonna be on the team. You wait and see. Dad’ll be real proud of me won’t he, Mom?” With that he threw his arms around her neck and gave her one of those spontaneous hugs that were priceless.

         Lauren fought off the tears. It was almost more than she could bear. She wanted so much for Zack to be happy. She imagined that it must be unbearably difficult for him to go through this time in his life without a father. Doug had died in a violent traffic accident 18 months ago. She yearned with all her heart for Zack to have a normal childhood. She did not want childhood to be what he spent the rest of his life trying to overcome.

         A tear slid down her cheek as Zack pulled back and looked at her. He noticed the tear and wiped it from her cheek with his hand.

         He said tenderly, “It’s OK, Mom, I’ll do good. You’ll see. I’ll do real good.”

         She smiled at him and said, “I know you will. I’m just a little sad. Now, wash your hands and let’s eat dinner.”

         Saturday morning was a special day for Zack. He arose early in the morning and ate a hearty breakfast. He wore a loose pair of jeans and his Texas Rangers t-shirt. His bat was leaned against his leg, and his glove sat next to him on the breakfast table. As hard as she tried, Lauren was not able to catch Zack’s infectious excitement. Her heart was heavy with the dread of her little boy's possible disappointment. How she wished there was some way to postpone this, but she knew that she could not. This was part of growing up. It was an experience that would help mold him into the man that he would someday be.

         The park was not far from their house. The drive was a short one. “Mom, over there--there they are! Do you see ‘em, Mom?”

         Yes, she did. Two dozen cars were parked at the last field. Boys, parents, and younger and older siblings roamed the field in uncoordinated abandon. She found a vacant spot; parked the car; and she and Zack made their way to the center of the commotion. As she neared the gate to the field, she noticed two men wearing Rotary ball hats sitting at a table. She assumed that was her destination and headed directly for it.

         “Hi, I’m Lauren Baker.”

         “I’m Zack,” interrupted Zack before Lauren could continue.

         “Well, hi, Zack. I see you’ve got your glove and bat. You ready to play some ball?” One of the men smiled at Zack and then turned his attention to Lauren.

         “I assume you want to sign him up for the try-out, Ms. Baker?” The man chuckled at the exuberance of the seven-year-old.

         “Yes please, does it cost anything? I mean, do I have to pay something today?"

         “No ma’am, it doesn’t cost anything. Our Rotary Club picks up the total expense. All you gotta do is get him some shoes and get him to practice. That is, of course, if he and his dad make the team.”

         “Excuse me? Did you say dad?”

         “Yes ma’am, this is a father/son team. The fathers pitch the ball for their sons. The sons do all the rest. But we have to have a dad sign up with every boy.”

         “Mom?” Zack's eyes were already filled with tears. He looked into her face for a solution to the monumental problem. “Mom, I wanna play. Can’t I play, Mom?”

         She had no answer for him. She looked into his face and saw the hurt that was rapidly forming there. Her heart broke. She wanted to kneel and hold him tightly to her breast and let her tears release uncontrollably. She wanted to turn to Doug and watch him take his place at the table and sign his name. She wanted to sit in the stands and watch her husband and little boy play ball. But she could do none of those things. And still, Zack’s eyes probed hers and searched for an answer.

         The concerned Rotarian asked, “Is there some problem ma’am?”

         With strength that came from somewhere that was beyond Lauren, she answered, ”No, there’s no problem. I’m his dad.”

         Now it was their turn to be confused, “Excuse me ma’am?”

         “Zack’s dad is not with us. We lost him in an accident sometime back. I will be Zack’s dad. Is there a problem with that?”

         “Mom?” Zack stared at Lauren incredulously.

         “Nope, I don’t have a problem with that. You gotta problem with that, Jack?” The Rotarian beamed as he looked to the other man, who smiled broadly and shook his head “No.” Lauren signed her name and Zack’s and took her place with the other dads.

         She thought to herself, “How do I get myself into these things? Doug, now I wish I would have played three way catch with you and Zack.”

         And then she looked at Zack, standing with the other boys, trading stories and generally being little boys.

         She prayed a prayer, “Dear Lord, please let Doug be with me now. Don’t let me disappoint our little boy.”

         A man with a clipboard spoke, “OK, listen up, now. Here are the rules. Each team of father/son will get a chance at bat. The father will pitch three balls. The son will hit. If a kid is not at bat, he goes to the field. We will announce the team after everyone has had his time at bat. Now let’s play ball. First up is Abernathy.”

         The Abernathy team fared well. Two of the balls were hit and one of them nearly made it to the outfield--then followed Adams and Anderson. Lauren went to school on each pitch that was thrown. She was startled when she heard her name called. Zack smiled his enchanting smile and said, “That’s us Mom. Pitch 'em good.”

         “Lord, help me.” Lauren did her very best to imitate the fathers who she had watched before her. She took a step and threw the ball. It hit the dirt five feet in front of Zack and then rolled across the plate.

         One of the kids behind him yelled, “Hey Zack, your dad throws like a girl!”

         Zack grinned and responded, “She is a girl.” The little boy was totally supportive of his pseudo-dad. He flashed a smile to Lauren. She loved him even more because of that display of courage.

         Lauren tossed her second throw, which made it across the plate. It was over Zack’s head. But, it was across the plate. She heard chuckles throughout the stands. But she also heard someone say, “Good pitch, Dad. You’re doin' great. Now, put this one over the plate.”

         Lauren’s last pitch was perfect. Her form was a little feminine for a dad, but it was just about right for Lauren. The ball sailed gently over the plate. Now it was Zack’s turn. He swung. With all his seven-year-old might, he swung. He connected. The solid whack that is heard only when wood strikes the ball just right rang through the stands. The ball flew over Lauren’s head, over the second baseman’s, and rolled to the fence in center field. The little boy who had struck out in T-ball connected with a hit worthy of the Babe. Lauren was stunned. Zack was stunned.

         The coach yelled at Zack, “Run!”

         Zack ran as fast as he could. He looked like slow motion. However, he made it to first base before the ball. In fact, the thrown ball missed first base and careened into the open dugout.

         “Run,” yelled the first base coach.

         Zack ran. He stood erect on second base and watched the retrieved ball sail into the outfield—another overthrow. But he did not advance. He was happy with where he was. He was playing baseball. He flashed a grin at Lauren, gave her a thumbs-up, and the crowd went wild with applause.

         It wasn’t a real game. It was just a try-out. So, Lauren and Zack took their place on the bench while the other father/son teams completed the try-out. Eventually, the man with the clipboard stood before all the father/son teams.

         “OK, here are the twelve teams that will comprise our team. Alphabetically, they are Adams, Anderson, Baker…..”

         That was all Lauren and Zack heard. They jumped to their feet and hugged each other. Simultaneously, the other participants cheered. As broken as her heart had been earlier, it now overflowed with joy. Zack made the team. His courage for even trying amazed her. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of how proud Doug would be of Zack. Then out of the blue Zack threw his arms around his mother again and said, “I’m proud of you Mom, and so’s dad. So’s dad, I just know it!”