I have been remiss in updating this blog, but I have a good reason. I wish I could say it was because I was writing the next great American novel, but no. I had a major project due for school and when I wasn’t working on it, because lets be honest and admit I put it off way longer than I should have, I was thinking and stressing about it. But, it was turned in this Tuesday (almost complete *sigh*) so other than a couple of final exams, I’m done for the next few weeks. Whoot!
Then I begin the slide into home. Which is ironic as I’ve gone and done something insane that will require me to teach little girls how to slide into home. That’s right, while writing my final paper for school (and taking a sociology course) I’ll be coaching eleven little girls, ages 7 to 9, in modified fast pitch softball. Have I coached softball before? Nope.
I’m still not sure what possessed me to volunteer. Rather, I know what possessed me I just wish I’d had the willpower to fight the need to be the savior. You see, my daughter’s team had no coach and if someone didn’t step forward, they were going to have to refund the money and seven little girls would not get to play. Since the four that would be moved to the other two teams would be based on who registered first, there’s a chance my kiddo would still get to play. But I didn’t know for sure and I didn’t want the other girls to lose out. So, I stepped forward. Damn it.
We are the Neptunes and our first practice is this coming Monday. I figure for the next few months at least I’ll have an interesting blog topic. (Like how parents react when you curse from the center of the field.) So far, the only girl on my team I know has played before is my own daughter. Which means we’re starting from scratch and I have less than a month to teach these little girls everything they need to know about the game of softball. I played for almost 15 years, so I know the game. Which means I also know there’s no way I can teach them everything they need to know in less than a month. Not with 120 minutes worth of practice a week.
But I’m staying positive. Some parents have already offered to step forward and help out. So I’m running on the idea that all of these girls have been gifted with natural talent and this is going to be a dream gig. I’ve decided they can call me Coach T and as soon as I get used to the fact that that’s me, I’ll try to answer as best I can.
Have you ever done something you knew wasn’t the best idea but you just couldn’t stop yourself? Did it turn out well? Any coaching advice? Anyone have any spare medication they’d like to send my way?