Sunday, February 12, 2012

Punch with the right hand only

Good Morning! Yes, I said my prayers and then a few more for my boy. As I made my sign of the cross and started to talk to God, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. After all, if there is a master plan, would my prayer make a difference? Perhaps my prayer should be that Buddy accepts the consequences of his actions whether they are positive or negative and he can learn from them. Oy! Too much thinking going on in this puny mind of mine. And so, I said my prayer and hoped for the best.

The scrimmage took place yesterday afternoon at 2:30p. I did not hear from the leftie until 6ish. This could be due to a number of reasons, but it left me concerned. If he calls right away after a game, it is a good sign. If he doesn't then.....oops.

And so, I got the call. I could barely hear his voice and did not understand most of what was said. He would not speak any louder, so I strained and heard every other word...."Not....to....Florida....suck....stink....it...." Piecing the words together, I think that I deciphered the code as "I am not a good player, therefore, I will probably not be on the team plane to Florida...."

Is he catastophizing? yeah....I think so. In all the scrimmages that he has played, he has thrown with a sore shoulder. He has given up three earned runs. Whereas it is true, this is not the kid of last year, he has tendonitis, therefore, relax! He was despondent and angry. it seems that LW was making fun of him as he struggled on the mound and verbalized to the team that Buddy was going to blame his performance on strept throat, which he didn't.

I did hear from the kid over the phone that he was going to punch LW in the face when he saw him. This led to a maternal dilemma. Do I address his pitching or anger toward his team mate? I had to think fast, and chose "B". I felt that I had to save LW's life and Buddy's pitching hand. So the conversation went like this:

"Give it a rest...he's an idiot...what do you care about what he says?...you'll break your pitching hand....you'll be kicked off the team....it's not worth it...let it go....you gonna have to move home.....lead with your right hand..."

Was I effective? Well, I did not have any midnight calls to bail him out of prison, so he probably let it go, but one of these days, LW will have a bloody nose and I pray that it is not a gift from his room mate.

And so, the saga continues. My son's search for perfection. He cannot tolerate anything less and this is a problem. Somehow, someway, he must develop a philosophy of winning and losing on the mound. He cannot let what happens in a game affect him off the field. Come on...life is too long to let a mis-thrown ball dictate how one feels, although I must say, when I lose a tennis match, I get a bit cranky too.

Back to reality...I have not heard from him today and will wait before any contact. He has his usual Sunday breakfast with the boys at their favorite diner to look forward to...waffles, bacon, syrup, and a sticky bun...food of champions.

Have a great day!

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