2002-04-28
Coaching pontification, posted at 2:40 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com The weekend was very busy on Friday and Saturday, but is being nicely punctuated at the end by a lovably lazy Sunday.First of all, I'll let you know about Friday. As many of you know, I'm coaching baseball. I'm the Assistant Coach, unpaid and at first base every game. After starting it, it's become the highlight of my day - something that always ends my day on a good note and draws me closer to the student and school community. Yet, I've begun having the feeling lately that my persona was not that of a stereotypical "coach." I'm not a rah-rah type necessarily. I'm naturally inhibited. My knowledge of baseball is pretty decent, but it's mostly of the major league and statistical kind - not necessarily the kind that will help a 15-year old hit a curveball.
Much of this year, I've felt like this is my "student coaching" experience, and I felt only marginally better about my abilities as a coach than I did in my first month of student teaching last year. Yet, on Friday night, everything changed.
First of all, we played well. We were playing a tough team, and the score was 3-3 in the sixth inning. (We eventually lost 10-3, which sucks, but we fought and battled for six innings despite being overmatched.)
I was sooooo into the game. Screaming my head off. Stealing signs from the opposing team and relaying them to my hitters. I would yell, "Be a hitter" when a curveball was coming, and "Look alive" when a fastball was coming. It didn't help any, but is completely legal.
After the game, the head coach deferred a spot in the post-game pep talk for me. I went off. Not yelling or angry or anything, but recounting what we did well and what we did poorly. I had taken notes beforehand to prepare myself. It was my first successful post-game speech, the first time that I wasn't just saying something the head coach said in a different way.
One of my favorite players on our team - hell, I'll just say it, he's my favorite player - is a 14-year old freshmen. He's just over five feet tall, is quiet, and has only gotten into about four of our teams twelve games so far. From the first day of practice, however, I could tell he had a lot of baseball smarts - he's got good instinctive defensive skills, and he seems to know what he's doing at the plate. He played a hell of a game on Friday. Getting a rare start because one of our starters was out of town, Terrance fouled off five pitches with a 3-2 count and then singled up the middle. His second at-bat, he singled to left field. His third at bat, he hit a shot up the middle that was fielded with a nice play. He played a hell of a game. In the last inning, however, they hit a fly ball to him in right field, and he missed it. He missed it ugly. It was completely playable, and he missed it. Two runs came in. I thought he was going to cry. Here's a kid battling, playing a hell of a game, only to have it almost ruined at the end.
At the end of the game, I waited for him to change in the locker room, and then walked out with him. Talked with him about the play. Reminded him he played a great game. It was a nice moment.
I really feel like a coach.
The head coach is retiring in a year or so. The more I think about it, the more I don't know how long I'll be staying in this city. I'm happy here, love the city, but I'm still young and string-free and want to see other things. But if this school offers me a head-coaching position in a year or so, I really think I'll take it and possibly be here for years. That's how much I enjoy it. And I'm getting better and better at it.
After returning from dinner Friday night with my grandparents, I was exhausted and ready for bed. But I stayed up to tell Jeremy and Mike about my day and my game. I was feeling tired and goofy, and was telling them about my game. I kept saying things like, "God, I just really love those kids!" and "I can't believe how Terrence fought against that pitcher!" and "These kids are the reason that I went into teaching!". Jeremy thought I was drunk. I wasn't. I was just happy.
Friday and Saturday were spend with my grandparents. On Friday night, I met them at their hotel. It was their first time seeing me since August. I've lost a lot of weight since then, so they complimented me on that. (I never get sick of hearing it.) We then went out to dinner. It was so nice to see them. I realized I really missed them.
Saturday started out at 8am, doing touristy stuff in the area. We visited Fort McHenry, Fell's Point, the Inner Harbor, and shopped. I had a great day, albeit exhausting. I got home at 6pm, however, and did nothing all night except stay in and clean my house. So I accomplished things.
I cooked breakfast for them this morning before they left, and went back to bed after they drove off. I'm now awake and at the library, on my way to the gym, and hoping we can score Wilco tickets to tonight's sold-out show.