I was never much of a sports fan while growing up. My brothers played various sports - mainly football, and watched various sports - mainly football - and I simply endured it all. Now I have a sports minded son. He plays a sport a season (that's being restrained, some kids play more than one sport a season). Basketball just ended, hockey sign-ups are coming up, we're still waiting for the rec department's notice about tennis - but baseball is here and now.
Now that Harry is eight - he's in the "Senior Ponies" - a division exclusively for eight year olds. It's a transition year - from the 'everybody gets to hit a single' and 'the whole line-up gets to hit every inning' mentality - to real rules.
So this year they have outs - and they count (meaning three outs and and that half of the inning is over - as opposed to a kid could get tagged out at base - but the whole line up still went up to bat anyway); they have strikes and balls - and an umpire. They don't keep score. Not officially, anyway. The kids know.
But the biggest change this year is that the kids are pitching.
This meant that at the first game, a couple of weeks ago, there were a lot of walks. A Lot. (The other adapted rule is that if the bases are loaded it takes 8 balls to walk a kid). But the kids are getting the hang of it (though I don't think any one has pitched more than one inning yet) and there are strikes and hits and it's beginning to look like real ball game (a three inning ball game - but a ball game none the less)
And the excitement today was that Harry got his chance to pitch. He pitched in the third inning. He walked a kid or two (but not too bad), a couple of kids got hits off him - but he also threw some great pitches - right over the plate, that the batter either didn't swing at - or missed. He struck them out. (to be fair, he struck out when he was up at bat too)
It was a fun game - and if I'd known he was going to be pitching I would have brought my camera.
Later at home he convinced me to go to the park with him and pitch to him so he could practice hitting. We had a plastic light-weight baseball we played with - which was good - when he hit it and it smacked me right in the lower lip.
I am so not a sports person. And I have the fat lip to prove it.