Still a Crazy Sports Dad!

Do you ever get annoyed with parents at sports events?  They are just so gaga over their own kids, like no one else matters out there.  They are so sure that their kid is going to go pro.

Well can I make a confession here?  Sometimes I get a little carried away myself.

The other day I went to watch my 13 year old boy's baseball game.  Remember, his Mom took him 45 minutes away to live, so he has to start all over proving himself to all his coaches.  That's irritating.  My boy is good.  In my mind, he's one of the better athletes.  In fact, I know he is.

So the game starts and my son's team takes the field, except my boy isn't out there.  What??!!  He's not out there?  Ridiculous!  They left him on the bench. Uggh!  You've got to be kidding me.  I put on my patient face and just wait.

The next inning they do put him on the field.  Thank goodness! I start to relax,  Later, when he first comes up to bat I'm excited and a little nervous for him.  I want him to do well.  He's the first batter up that inning. The coach gives him the signal of what he wants him to do.  He steps up to the plate and lays out his bat to bunt the ball on the first pitch.  What???!!!!  A bunt when he's the first batter and no one else is on base?  Why??  I feel myself starting to get irritated again.  I don't like that call at all.  But my boy is a good soldier and he lays down a perfect bunt on the second pitch.  It's perfect, but not quite perfect enough.  It goes up the first base line.  He sprints forward, but the pitcher grabs the ball and narrowly throws him out at first.  What a waste! Don't they know my boy can hit?  Geez!

The next at bat, my son gets walked. Okay.  I watch him steal second, then third,  They hold him at third on the next few pitches but he keeps threatening to steal home.  Finally, on a wild pitch, he books it home and scores.  Everyone cheers.  Yes!!! That was a gutsy play!  I love it.  You can't keep a Nielson down I say under my breath, secretly exulting.

Later he is out playing center field.  The opposing batter steps up to the plate and strokes a nice one out far.  My boy is all over it.  I see him running forward to position himself for the catch, and he does catch it. Inning over.  It's perfect!  In a burst of energy, I find myself jumping up and down in the bleachers pumping my fists in the air. "That's my boy! That's my boy!" I hear myself shouting.  The other parents look over at an over exuberant Dad jumping up and down and yelling.  I barely notice. Subconsciously, I want everyone to know my boy is good and shouldn't be overlooked.  I feel that old competitive spirit churning just like it used to when I played sports.  Later, I sense I overreacted with the jumping and the yelling thing, but oh well.

After the game, I'm walking back to the car with my son.

"What was that you were yelling Dad?  When I made that catch?"

"Oh, you heard that? Was I yelling that loud?"

"I kind of heard it.  What where you saying?"

"Well, I think I said something like, 'That's my boy!  That's my boy!' "

"Oh ya,  That's what I though you said."

We turn the corner to get to the car and I see a big grin steal over his young face.  Then I feel a big grin stealing over mine as well.  Nothing like sharing a moment with your own flesh and blood.  He's a Nielson and he's a part of me. Always will be and that's a fact.

I may be an overactive sports Dad, but I guess sometimes being an overactive sports Dad has it's perks.

Upward and onward!

Love you guys!