My initiation into the world of
sports began thirty-five years ago when my oldest son ventured into the world
of t-ball. As each brother reached the grand old age of four, he joined the
ranks of youth baseball teams. I admit that sitting on uncomfortable bleachers
for hours was no picnic, but some of my best “Mommy” memories spring from those balmy evenings in June as I cheered my little
boys to victory.
With May's arrival, we leapt
into all things baseball. Visiting the baseball card shop. Practices. Washing
uniforms. Games. Washing uniforms. Junk food. I even sold an article to a
magazine extolling the agony and the ecstasy of a six-inning Little League game.
We instituted baseball traditions
at home. The season opened with our favorite videos. The Sandlot was an annual must-watch, and my husband rediscovered
his childhood favorite, It Happens Every Spring. To gain relief from
hotdogs and nacho dinners fresh from the concession stand, I could be counted
on to bring the boys’ favorite sub sandwiches to their games. By the time, the
youngest was in high school, those subs had won the distinction of a home run
meal for the team between doubleheaders.
Years passed. The oldest boy developed
a successful high school sports career in swimming. The next son reluctantly
said goodbye to the game when he entered
the premed program at his university. With one child left in baseball, I
cherished every inning. We were able to attend games through all of his college
years and beyond as he followed his dream to become a high school coach.
My boys will tell you that I
never truly learned baseball. (“It’s not a hit, Mom. He only made contact with
the ball.”) In one sense, they’re right. My sports lingo is filled with malapropisms, but I’ve learned
a lot about baseball and life while raising my sons.
PleaseGodpleaseGodpleaseGod, don’t let him strike out. PleaseGodpleaseGodpleaseGod, help him to
pitch over the plate. Not every one of those prayers was answered with a yes
from the Almighty. Through God’s grace, my boys and I learned how to handle the
success of RBIs and sacrifice bunts, as well as how to endure the humiliation
of fielding errors and hitting the batter with a wild pitch.
My years as a baseball mom have
trained me for writing as a second career. Where baseball consumed our leisure
time every spring, I now spend my retirement hours every day either writing or
learning some facet of writing. Instead of baseball games, I attend
conferences, and I’ve gained a wonderful, new pool of friendships through those
meetings and through ACFW.
I’ll work and rework a sentence until it
sparkles with the exact meaning I desire, which leaves me with the satisfaction
of making it safely to first base. Seasons pass, and I’m delighted at each new
activity I try—entering contests, adding short stories and blogs to my
noveling efforts, and serving in writers’ organizations.
PleaseGodpleaseGodpleaseGod, may
this editor love my book. PleaseGodpleaseGodpleaseGod, help me pitch this story
perfectly. Again, I don’t get a yes from my heavenly Father all the time. I
receive a lot of rejections, and He’s given me the strength to keep writing,
keep learning. I also see His hand in my life as He provides mentors and helps
me develop the craft.
I possess a wealth of family memories
from our seasons in baseball. In twenty years, I’ll own a treasure trove of
writing memories. Positive or negative, each is to be cherished.
Savor the moments. In family. In
work. In writing. In life.
Linda Sammaritan writes realistic fiction, mostly for kids
ages ten to fourteen. She is currently working on a middle grade trilogy, World Without Sound, based on her own
experiences growing up with a deaf sister.
Linda had always figured she’d teach middle-graders until
school authorities presented her with a retirement wheelchair at the overripe
age of eighty-five. However, God changed those plans when He gave her a growing
passion for writing fiction. In May of 2016, she blew goodbye kisses to her students
and dedicated her work hours to learning the craft. She still visits the school
and teaches creative writing workshops.
Where Linda can be found on the web:
www.lindasammaritan.com www.scriblerians.com www.thescriblerians.wordpress.com www.puttingonthenew.com www.facebook.com/lindasammaritan www.twitter.com/LindaSammaritan
Thanks for the walk down memory lane. I remember in the busy raising kids years when sitting down to watch their games was on the only time I sat down all day.
ReplyDeleteTrue, but for the first few years, I was crawling under bleachers to retrieve my youngest!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad it stirred up good memories. :)