It’s that time again. We’re going to see about playing spring ball. I’m excited. My favorite past time/hobby. Loved playing in the fall for the first time in 13 years. With that comes sadness and memories. Kaleb was our “pinch runner” for Jimmie last year up until he died. He had pure joy when he’d get to practice with us, or running the bases. He gave it his all while adding his own flair to it. He had never hit a pitched ball before our first practices. He’d gone to countless ballgames as the other boys grew up, but it was never something he enjoyed. He didn’t even really like being at the games. It just wasn’t his thing. Not as a “competitive” sport. But to practice and play with us he loved. He had raw talent underneath his funny business. I don’t think we ever saw him catch a ball in the air with his feet on the ground. He always jumped to catch a ball, even the low ones. The funniest thing I ever saw was when he “slid” into 2nd base. Probably the first time he’d ever slid in his life. You are going to have to use your imagination here. I’ll try and explain it as best as I can. Imagine running full speed at a base and just before you get there jump straight into the air and assume the position you would be in if you were sitting at the top of a slide at a park. Butt and legs parallel to the ground, arms at your sides with hands beside your butt like you are holding onto the side of the slide. . It was perfect form if you were going to do down a slide, but as far as sliding into a base went completely wrong. He jumped way to close to the base, assumed the position and landed butt square on top of the bag and bounced right on past 2nd base. He scrambled back to the bag and was safe. We laughed so hard. But what was important was he gave his all he tried hard. Next play, (and I missed this, just had it described to me afterwards) he’s running from 2nd, rounded 3rd to go home and as he got to home does a cartwheel over home plate, completely missing home plate. apparently the umpire was to distracted to notice that because he was called safe. Needless to say after we stopped laughing, I had to give the “Kaleb, we can’t do that, someone might get hurt when you do things that aren’t expected” speech. To him it was entertainment. Did I mention he did not have a competitive bone in his body when it came to sports.
Along with those memories are the memories of our great friends. The week after Kaleb died, one of the teams made shirts to wear for their game in honor of Kaleb. It had the Suicide Prevention Ribbon painted on the front. We went to watch them play and there they all were in their matching shirts supporting his memory. I’m going to attempt to attach a picture to this blog, first time I’ve done that so we’ll see if you get a picture with it or not. We have the best friends in the world. They watched Kaleb grow up. They heard about his antics. They helped when we needed babysitters. And they were there afterwards supporting our family. There weren’t questions of what can we do, they just did it.
We play at the same field, we played coed at when the boys were all little. So each of those concrete bleachers the boys have hid under. They’ve ran all over those fields and dugouts during practices. So while the softball field is one of my favorite places to be, it’s also one with a lot of memories. The memories are happy memories of good times past, but they bring a sadness with them of what is missing. So as I play this year “This one’s for you Kaleb.” I’ll remember it’s not about winning and losing. It’s about quality time spent with close friends.
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