Batter Up
It’s amazing what you can learn at the batting cage. You can learn how to keep your hands back. You can learn how to keep your head in. You can also learn all about psychology. More on that in a moment. A few days ago, my eleven year old son and I went to the batting cage to work on his swing. It took him about one pitch to get frustrated. Ok, maybe three. That’s how I knew he was my son. When I was his age, I had the maturity of... an eleven-year old. So watching his temper kick in feels like I’m watching an old black and white movie get re-made into color. But this time I’m a supporting actor instead of the star. God rest the souls of the wooden tennis rackets that lost their innocent lives about 32 years ago by being slammed into the concrete by an immature child. Come to think of it, I was A LOT worse than he is. After ten rounds in the cage -- which included me walking away, him yelling at me, me trying hard (and somehow succeeding) to not yell at him, me walking back,...