Confessions of a Reluctant Baseball Dad Turned Major Division Coach

Four years ago, I found myself in a predicament no parent ever expects: I was voluntold to coach my son's baseball team. Now, let me be clear – I had never played baseball growing up and knew as much about baseball as a goldfish knows about quantum physics. But with a lack of volunteers looming over Whalley Little League like storm clouds, I reluctantly stepped up to the plate.

I'll admit, my initial reaction was pure panic. What did I know about coaching? How was I supposed to teach these kids the ins and outs of the sport when I couldn't even tell a fastball from a fly ball? But there I was, standing on the sidelines with a clipboard in hand and a sinking feeling in my stomach.

My first act of coaching brilliance? Bringing a whistle to a baseball practice. My son's face went beet red with embarrassment when I blew it, signaling the start of our warm-up drills. Little did I know, that whistle would become a symbol of my earnest attempts to navigate the coaching world, much to my son's amusement.

 

Surprisingly, what followed turned out to be one of the most unexpectedly enjoyable experiences of my life. Sure, there were moments of sheer confusion – like the time I tried to explain the infield fly rule and ended up sounding like Charlie Brown's teacher – but there were also moments of pure magic.

It wasn't just about the games and practices; it was about the quality time I got to spend with my son. Some of my fondest memories aren't of grand slams or game-winning catches, but rather the simple joy of the car rides home after practice. We'd stop for slushies, our cheeks tingling from brain freeze as we dissected the day's events and shared a few laughs.

And now, four years later, I find myself on the brink of a whole new adventure: coaching in the Major Division. It's a far cry from where I started – a bewildered dad fumbling through his first practice – to a grizzled coaching veteran and I wouldn't trade this journey for anything.

I never imagined I'd be coaching in the Major Division. Heck, I never imagined I'd be coaching at all! But somehow, despite my initial reservations and utter lack of baseball knowledge, I've found myself falling in love with the game – and with the bond it's helped me forge with my son.

So here's to the reluctant coaches, the accidental mentors, and the dads who never thought they'd find themselves yelling "batter up!" from the dugout. May our journeys be filled with laughter, learning, and maybe just a few unexpected curveballs along the way. After all, isn't that what baseball – and parenthood – is all about?

A Whalley Major Division Coach