Ainsley Up To Bat!

AINSLEY UP AT BAT

It was a blue lump in the green grass - - what a unusual sight!

Little Ainsley was due to play baseball at 10 a.m. on this sunny Saturday morning in May, a four year old little girl, small boned and sweet faced, looks like a little sprite. She'd already had a game or two and had been to her practices, but this morning she wasn't on the field with her team. That was curious. I wasn't expecting that.

As I turned the corner around the dugout of the opposing team of busy little people in orange, I spied her father. Where was blonde-haired blue jersey-ied Ainsley?

Dad saw me, pressed his lips together, and indicted with his head that I should look to the ground on his other side. I did.

There face down curled into a blue ball was his 4th child! Ainsley. I came to see Ainsley play on the Under 5 tee ball team.

"Why isn't she out there with her team? They're up to bat."

"She won't go, she went out once, and came back to me and won't go back out."

I picked her up, that blue lump, and cradled her, and she just collapsed - dead weight. We stayed that way while I whispered in her ear myriad things to see if I could discern her attitude. She said she wasn't hungry, she wasn't tired, she didn't care if her mates were playing without her, she hadn't had any fussings with siblings or parents, she just shook her head, and buried deeper into my arms. Maybe she was experiencing a shy moment? I asked Dad. He didn't know, he shook his head again.

My own legs got tired of her weight and I shifted, and she shifted. She let her head loll and fluttered her eyes. I don't know if she was pretending, or if she was really that tired, but I smiled, amused.

After a bit, in a burst of interest, she got down and searched for her crackers. Then she went to dad's lawn chair and retrieved her power drink from his cup holder and took 2 good swallows then backed up to my knees to get back in my lap.

I turned her away from the sun, and began telling her what I was seeing. A little chubby boy in blue came up to bat and had a hard time connecting with the ball, eventually, he got to run to first base. Then a little girl smaller than Ainsley came up to bat and they had to lower the batting T for her. I asked Ainsley if she knew her. Another little boy came up, hit the ball right quick, and thre-ew his bat. I pretended enthusiastic excitement and shock.

Whispering in her ears, I pointed to a tall woman with a purple bun, and asked if that was her coach. Did she have two or three coaches? And she finger-pressed 3 fingers up.

Then in a brief moment of conversing she said, "See my jersey?" And she pulled the sides of her shirt so I could see that her number was 87, I also got to see her cleated gold shoes. Then she leaned back into my arms. This time facing forward. Maybe a little interest in the game? But no, she got up again and took another good swallow of the power drink and right back into my lap she came.

One tall slim coach was good at adjusting the stance of their small feet.

Another coach ask Ainsley if she was ready to play. Looking at the grass, she shook her head no.

Parents where cheering their own, "Go, Andrew, go!"

Clapping and hollering for Kylie. "Run to the next base, run!"

"Don't pick up the ball! Run! Son, run!"

Mr. Coach jumped back with both his feet as Ryan's bat came within an inch of making bodily contact.

One little teamster hit the ball and due to malfunctioning toddlers of the opposite team was able to run all 3 bases. What a roar of the crowd! "Whoo hoo," "Yes," "Good job!" "That's my kid!"

The hour was passing, coming to an end, and kids were happy, and bouncy, and parents were rooting for their teams. "Way to go!"

Ainsley's other female coach announced to one and all, "This is our last batter," and she put her hand on the shoulders of the little blue-shirted boy coming up to home plate. Coach adjusted his grip on the bat.

Well, Ainsley didn't see what coach was doing, but she did hear the words, "Last batter."

In a miracle of coordinated movements, she slid off my lap, put her pink helmet back on her pony-tailed head, reached for her aluminum bat, and walked behind the dugout, and onto the playing field. I dropped my jaw!

Coach yelled to everyone, "We have another one!"

Ainsley went up to bat!

And I laughed my head off!

This little bugger spent the hour rejuvenating. She must've!

She ate, she drank, she napped, she got hug-loves, and when most of her teams work was done, she was ready to go.

Last batter up, Ainsley hit the ball. Ainsley ran all three bases!

"Atta, girl!"

Now, that's the way to play the game!