With only a brief pause during the pandemic, my son Ike has been playing baseball since he was barely old enough to hold a bat. Starting at T-ball and advancing through coach-pitch, 6U, and now 12U, we’ve been on this baseball rollercoaster for what feels like a lifetime (I guess it is Ike’s lifetime). Over these long and sometimes grueling little league seasons, I’ve had the privilege of watching my sweet, tiny boy—who initially was in it mostly for the baseball cap—evolve into a bona fide athlete and fan of the game.
Let’s not sugarcoat it: baseball has cost us. Along the way we have spent approximately; a hundred million, billion dollars on assorted gear. Not to mention the small mortgage we maintain for use of our local indoor baseball skill facility, Dbat. Can someone please chime in on why an 8 year old needs a $200 bat? Especially when they will almost always get up to bat and spend most of the time dodging wild kid pitches in an effort to not get hit with the ball.
But despite the financial outlay (and the endless drives to the baseball fields), I’ve come to cherish these Saturdays at the ballpark. There’s something oddly satisfying about sitting in a dugout with a dozen kids and their absurdly expensive gear, constantly reminding them of game basics like how many outs are in an inning. It’s chaos, but it’s a chaos I’ve grown to love. Plus, they keep me young… or at least on my toes.
The Joys (and Perils) of Being “Coach Mom”
Ike’s dad has had the great fortune of being his coach for nearly half of Ike’s baseball career. Watching their relationship blossom on the field has been one of the best parts of this baseball journey for me. And, honestly? Having the other parent handle practices and game schedules isn’t too shabby either. I happily embrace my role as “Coach Mom,” which basically translates to dugout wrangler and snack-list manager. Pro tip: Do not ask me to keep score—I’m way too busy chatting with the other moms or making sure no one escapes mid-game.
I should also mention that Ike plays in a recreational league that, conveniently, is only separated from the youth soccer fields by a parking lot. And wouldn’t you know it? My good mom friend has twin boys who play soccer right next door. So while the kids are (not) swinging bats and dodging balls, we sneak in some much-needed mom socializing. It’s the little things that keep us sane, right?
Little Sisters and Snack Counter Shenanigans
Even Ike’s little sister, and many other little sisters too, finds a way to enjoy our weekends at the baseball fields. With both parents focused on the athlete brother on the field, she’s basically free to do as she pleases. This includes (but is not limited to) running wild with her friends and hitting up the snack counter with reckless abandon. I mean, who wouldn’t love unlimited popcorn and candy while their sibling sweats it out on the field?
Yep, that is 6 little sisters literally playing in the mud, during a baseball game.
Why Baseball Season is a Family Affair
At the end of the day, this little league journey is more than just about learning how to swing a bat or score runs. It’s about family bonding, building memories, and teaching Ike values like teamwork and perseverance. Watching him grow, both as a person and a player, has been worth every penny, every practice, and even every lost Saturday.
So, if you text me on a Saturday morning and get the dreaded, “Sorry, can’t, we have baseball,” you’ll know exactly where we are—and why we wouldn’t trade this for anything else. ⚾
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