Ah, T-ball...

I remember playing t-ball as a child - the experience was poor.  I can tell you with 100% recall that my coaches did not like me, discriminated against me, and made me feel awful about the whole endeavor.  Who was the only kid that didn't have a uniform shirt?  This girl.  Who was the only one not informed when games or practices were changed?  That'd be me.  Still, I recognize all this stuff as an adult reflecting on the memories, but I remember loving the game when I was 5.  I went on to play softball in town until I was 16 and wasn't too shabby at it, and I'd love to be able to play again sometime.

L started t-ball last week.  When she decided that she'd rather do this instead of soccer for the fall, I was hesitant.  Are you sure?  Wouldn't you rather do soccer, like most of the other kids?  You like running, you can do that LOTS in soccer!  No, no, she insisted she wanted t-ball, so I signed her up begrudgingly through the local YMCA.  It stated that registration was through September 21st, and that the first game would start on September 28th.  Okay, fine, I signed her up in early August, it's going to be awhile.

Flash forward to September 26th.  I called the YMCA to inquire with the youth director as to why I hadn't heard anything yet about L's t-ball practices or games.  Remember my story above?  I don't want a repeat for my daughter.  The youth director informs me that the coaches are at fault, he doesn't know why they haven't called, I should be getting a call that night from a man named B.  Okay then.  I've never heard of anyone having positive dealings with the youth director, and I haven't yet either, but I figured he must know what he's talking about.  Later that evening, I get a call from a very friendly woman named T.  She informs me that she is one of the coaches, L is on her team, practices start tomorrow night, and the first game is Saturday morning at 9am.  Um...okay.

The next day, the girls and I go to get her baseball glove at the sports store.  Very exciting, truly.  After dinner, we grab the glove, leave a crying E with Daddy (she wanted to come but was sick), and head off to the practice field.  We get to the location and realize there are four baseball fields.  Each are in use at the moment, we have no idea who we're looking for, and we were never told which field to go to.  Luckily for us, I spied another YMCA coach that L had over the summer for her sports program and just assumed that we'd be using the same field after his team was done (the YMCA probably only reserved one field, right?).  Thankfully, we were right.  Promptly at 6:00pm, his team disperses and L's team takes the field.  Um, where are the coaches?  Well, they were lost too - apparently the youth director never told them which field they were on, so they were blindly wandering from field to field hoping to find their group of 4- and 5-year-old players!

Now, if you know anything about early fall in Arizona, you'll know that the sun sets around 6:15pm.  Practice started at 6:00pm on an unlit field.  It wasn't too bad when the kids started, but they had to call practice at 6:30pm (instead of going until 6:45pm) because it was just too dark to see.  Brilliant planning on the youth director's part, eh?  While practice wasn't super organized, the kids were having fun and L was enjoying herself.  She's the only girl on the team of nine, so I think the coaches were giving her special attention (ha!).  Game on Saturday, see you there!  Practices changed to 5:30pm next week, see you then!  Off we went home.

L was too sick to go to the game Saturday morning, but apparently that was another fiasco.  Once again, the youth director never told the coaches which field to play the game on.  They thought it was the same field we practiced on, but it was the field furthest from that location.  Nice.  At least we didn't have to experience that first hand, but I could tell how exasperated the coaches were via the tone of their follow-up email.

Flash forward to practice tonight - still on the unlit field.  At least we knew where we were going.  We showed up late because L refused to eat her dinner in a timely manner, and I was super pissed off because of that (I HATE BEING LATE).  At 5:40pm, we roll in.  There is one coach and a few players.  Most of them showed up after us.  Nice.  There is one boy on the team that doesn't speak English!  Wth?  It's not the coaches responsibility to make sure he understands what's going on.  They tried to get the mother involved to help the boy along, but she was too involved in her cell phone to give two $hits about what was going on on the field.  At one point, I think she yelled something similar to "get off your butt!" in Spanish to him while he was just rolling around in the outfield.  Hi, lady, how about getting off your lazy tush and helping out your son?!?  This isn't babysitting!  L had fun but was not pleased we were late (maybe she'll learn????), but was happy to get her uniform shirt from the coaches.  Here's my gripe about them:  THEY'RE WHITE.  Who chooses white as a uniform color for a t-ball team full of preschool and kindergarteners?!?????

I'm hoping the game on Saturday isn't a fiasco again.  They have pictures in the morning prior to playing, so hopefully that's pulled off well.  Again, the youth director didn't manage any of this.  What is his actual job there?  I'm thinking about writing a letter to him and his boss asking that very question.  However, I will point out the good things going for L:  she has a uniform shirt (which I didn't), her coaches and teammates treat her well, and we're kept in the loop.  I suppose you can't beat that, and I'll just have to accept everything else as part in parcel of the whole.  *shrug*

Running bases with the team (in pink)