I showed up to practice at the park early the other day. A handful of kids were already there to greet me. The wind swirled around the gravel parking lot, immediately kicking up grit into my mouth as I pulled out the equipment.
One of my players said: "If I scream, don't worry, Coach." I stopped and looked at her as she exclaimed that she had a 'broken tooth that sometimes shot pain'.
Oh, wow. I thought and nodded my head as I carried the bag to the bench.
"And don't be alarmed if I bark."
I halted and turned to her waiting to hear a doozy of a story.
"Yeh, there was some -- blah, blah, blah (info I couldn't hear due to the shock or wind--- that made me nauseated, so I might barf."
"Oh! I said relieved but immediately thought up a game plan should "barf" at practice.
"well, the water cooler will be on the bleachers, get a drink if ya need to." I told her and patted her head.
The sun shone just enough to make the outfielders- well, all the kids, feel a bit drowsy as they stood in their positions to practice. Even I started to get sucked into the hypnotizing effects of a ball field. Overgrown grass blowing in the breeze, an empty, beat up garbage can chained to the fence for decoration; all of them factoring into a good lazy summer afternoon of daydreaming. No wonder kids dreams start on a ball field.
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