T-Ball Days

I have a bit of a confession to make. I’m not a big fan of T-ball. You know the game. Baseball or softball. Kids, 6-7 years old. Or younger. For most, their first foray into team sports.

My kids played. I don’t remember much about liking it or disliking it. It was almost like it was something that kids were supposed to do. The All-American sport and all that, I suppose.

I’m not sure when the game and I had a falling out. It probably wasn’t anything specific. I just sort of decided that it was largely a waste of time. Lots of standing around. Kids playing in the infield dirt. Long periods of inactivity then bursts of very brief activity. Too much standing around waiting for it to promote an active lifestyle.

None of my first five grandkids showed any interest in T-ball. And then came along Grandkid #6. I don’t know if it was his idea or his parent’s. I just know that he is the cutest thing you ever saw out there with his Yankees uniform on (sidenote—his dad played for the Yankees in his first year of T-ball).

This is a pretty special kid. He was born quite premature, weighing only 3 pounds, 2 ½ ounces at birth. He was supposed to spend 6 weeks in the NICU at Children’s Hospital but he got out before that. I still have vivid memories of this tiny thing in an incubator that was about the size of a squirrel.

Let me tell you that he has overcome that slow start. Just pick him up sometime. Oh. My. Goodness. The boy is thick. Not fat, but if he plays football, he will play with his hand in the dirt. And he will talk your ear off. Off-the-scale perceptive.

And playing t-ball at Maryville Little League. I agree with somebody that observed coaching t-ball was like herding cats but after watching a game on Saturday, I’ve come to really enjoy T-ball. Not just because I have one out there but for the lessons that are learned.

Think about this—you’re taking a bunch of 6 and 7 year olds, getting them where they are supposed to be, and (mostly) getting them to pay attention. Where else are you going to get that?

Oh, they’re still playing at the dirt, completely surprised when a batted ball rolls by them. And I’ve yet to see a successful throw to first for an out. Or a caught fly ball. But I’ve seen energy and enthusiasm and team spirit. And coaches that know that this year of t-ball is not going to make or break their kid’s athletic career.

Whether or not they learn baseball (or softball) skills is not really important. What they are learning is eye/hand coordination and how to throw sand catch something. They learn a little bit about what it is to be a part of a team. They hopefully learn that it is OK to cheer for somebody to do something well, even if they are on the other team.

They’re learning how to be where they’re supposed to be. They’re learning what it means to “run home” even though that concept can be quite confusing. They’re learning simple skills and that mistakes have consequences.  And, yes, they’re beginning to learn life skills.

I was never in favor of games where they don’t keep score. Keeping score gives a game structure and parameters. The kids usually know what the score is anyway. But these kids, knowing who “won” and who “lost” doesn’t seem to matter.  As soon as the game is over, all they want to do is get to the post-game snacks.

Just like kids forever.

Walking Home

I attended a track meet recently. Actually, it was a middle school track meet. I was there to cover the high school baseball game next door but I had two granddaughters competing in the track meet so I stuck around the track meet until they ran.

If you’ve never been to a track meet, it’s a lot like a 3-ring circus, with events happening simultaneously all over the place. Jumping here. Running there. Throwing over there. Not usually considered a spectator sport, it can be quite fun.

At a middle school meet, you can see just about everything. Kids that look like they should already be in high school. Little ones that you can’t believe will be in high school in just a year or two. All of them seem serious about what they’re doing. All of them trying hard, doing their best. But this isn’t about a track meet at all. This is about one kid.

I noticed this kid in one of the sprints. It was probably his unusual haircut that made me notice him at first but then I noticed that he was quite good. After my granddaughters competed, I headed over to my baseball game, which had just started. About half way through the baseball game, I could see that the track meet was finished. Now jump ahead about an hour later and I’m driving home. It’s just about dusk and I’m thinking about a pre-bed snack.

Walking along on the sidewalk was that kid that I remembered from the track meet. He looked young, not real big. Still in the clothes he ran in. His backpack on his back, it seemed obvious that he was walking home from the track meet.

That alone isn’t earth shattering. I used to do it by choice from time to time. Or at least ride my bike to and from school. (It’s at this point that my kids roll their eyes and tell you that I led them to believe that I walked miles to and from school every day. In the snow. Barefoot.)

But we were easily a couple of miles from the track. And it seems equally obvious that this young man had walked all the way from that track. I immediately wanted to know his story. I thought about offering him a ride but these days that just isn’t a good idea. If I had known him—different story.

First came the obvious questions. Where were his parents? Did anyone offer him a ride home? Too often, I assume the worst because I’ve seen the worst.

Years ago, I was taking care of a football player from the opposing team. His team didn’t have any medical coverage and his injury was a concussion. His symptoms were mild so I didn’t send him to the hospital but I did want to talk to his parents.

“Where are your parents,” I asked. “They’re not here.” OK...this was a varsity high school football game. Friday night. “Where are they.” It turns out dad was probably at home watching TV and mom was at a church meeting. Unbelievable.

So after assuming the worst (negligent parents), I turned to the best. This kid might have great parents but both of them had to work on this particular evening. And maybe he just wanted to walk home on this nice spring evening or didn’t want to bother the parents of his friends.

Regardless of the circumstances, there are lessons to be learned. Every kid needs a support system. Sure, this kid might be learning independence, self-support, diligence…but I can’t imagine a world in which there was no one there at the track meet to support him. To cheer him on. To lift him up if he were to fall short. To let him know that he is loved regardless of circumstances or outcomes.

I suppose I’ll get to know this kid a bit as he moves into high school. Especially if he’s ever injured. I will be looking for him. I already know that I am a big fan of his. I hope I get to see what kind of man he grows into being. I bet he does good things with himself. I will be watching.

12 Questions

I’m a big fan of the magazine Men’s Journal. Yeah, I know…still reading magazines makes me a dinosaur.  I do actually read printed material. And I love the feel of a newspaper. Part of the joy of Sunday morning is getting a real newspaper in the mailbox.

One of the recurring features in Men’s Journal is this question and answer thing on the last page. It really doesn’t matter much who it is. Sometimes it really isn’t someone that you want to emulate.  I guess I just like that format.

So since those magazine folks aren’t knocking down my door to interview me, I figured I would do it myself. I’ve done something like this before. My wife will probably tell me “enough with the self-interviewing.” But I do it anyway. Oh well.  So here goes.

What is the best advice you ever received? A job worth doing is worth doing it right. I didn’t realize it at the time but I got a lot of those kind of tidbits from my dad. I built a tree house one time with him sitting at the base of the tree insisting that I do it right.

Who were your heroes growing up?  That’s easy—high school football players. Butch Crabtree. Raymond Stamey. David Messamore. I wanted to be like them. No doubt that was part of growing up in a small town, but I think it holds true today. These days I watch kids playing on the field after a high school game, arguing about who gets to be Tee Hodge or Spencer Shore. Don’t take that role lightly guys.

What advice would you give your younger self?  Believe in yourself. Believe you are worthy. I was so insecure and a huge underachiever. I was in high school football before anybody other than my parents thought I would be a productive adult.

How should a man handle getting older?  With a sense of humor and a bottle of ibuprofen. And remember that you’re not in your 20’s anymore so don’t act like it and don’t dress like it. But you can dance like it.

What role should vanity play in a man’s life? Nothing beyond basic hygiene.

How should a man handle criticism? The same way he handles praise. Only about half of it is true.

Who has been the biggest influence on your life? I’ve mentioned my high school football coach here many times. He turned me around. I tell him that every chance I get.

What human trait do you most deplore? Not reaching for your potential.

And what human trait do you most admire? Kindness. It’s terribly underrated.

How should a man handle regret? Consider this—the mistakes that you’ve made in your life have helped you become the person that you are today. If you’re OK with that then you will understand that you really shouldn’t have any regrets.

Who would you invite to your dream dinner party? My dad. I often want just one more conversation with him, to tell him how things turned out. But I guess he knows. Frederich Nietzsche. He had a lot of things figured out. Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He did too. Claude Monet. I’m fascinated by his work. Amelia Earhart. I want to know where she went to. James Taylor for the music.

What adventure changed your life? Probably a Boundary Waters Canoe Trip with the Boy Scouts. It was the second step in me figuring out that I wasn’t that kid that the guidance counselor told “people like you don’t go to college.”

Things I've learned

I just got back from APTA’s Federal Affairs Forum. Three days in our nation’s capitol advocating for my patients and my profession. It is an honor and a privilege to do so, something this country boy from Loudon doesn’t take for granted.

Just yesterday, I walked by the Capitol, pausing to take touristy photos amid the cherry blossoms at their peak. I passed the building housing the U.S. Supreme Court, a regal and imposing building where reverence and law are molded.

I walked the halls of the Senate and House office buildings, most of which have not changed for a very long time. I saw Congressman John Lewis walk by and was properly awed. Congressman Lewis marched with Martin Luther King in Selma. He has been a voice of wisdom in the House of Representatives for many years. It was an honor to breathe the same air as him.

I visited with Congressman John Rose from Cookeville. New to the House, he was interested and eager. I chatted with Congressman Mark Greene from Clarksville, an extraordinarily gifted Tennesseean and a physician as well. He’s also new to the House.

I sat with Congressman Chuck Fleischmann of Chattanooga. Congressman is and has been fully invested in the best interests of the citizens of the state of Tennessee.  You cannot leave a meeting with him and not feel honored and appreciated.

I missed new Congressman Tim Burchett, my Congressman. I’ve known him for many years, mostly from his work in the Tennessee legislature. I will meet with him in a couple of weeks in Maryville. I look forward to that meeting. Tim is one of those people that makes you feel comfortable and respected.

Others in my contingent met with Senators Lamar Alexander and Marsha Blackburn. The “Tennessee Tuesday” event is a weekly event where you get to meet and hear from our Tennessee Senators. That meeting is always impressive and makes one proud to be a Tennesseean.

Our Tennessee delegation included a mix of people, newbies and those with lots of experience in DC and the art of advocating for our patients and profession.  We took two students, Kurtisha Norris from the physical therapy program at UT-Chattanooga and Trey Martin from ETSU.

So here’s my take-away from this trip:  Our country is divided. Painfully. Our politicians reflect that. We don’t send Senators and Congressmen to Washington to be wise, visionary, or collaborative. We send them to Washington to represent us. Maybe they are greedy. Maybe they are self-centered. They are definitely quite partisan. Maybe our country is too.

But these new legislators seem genuinely interested in doing a great job. None of them asked me if I was Republican or Democrat. None of them asked anything of me. Each patiently listened to my issues and concerns and seemed genuinely interested. I am encouraged by what I saw. In person. Up close.

I’m excited about the experience that the two students had. They were already committed members.  I believe that now they will become fully engaged members.  They have had a taste of how important these things are. They have been exposed to the national stage. They now understand that being a professional means that the job is never 9 to 5 (and that it really isn’t a job—it’s part of who you are).

So if you want to hear more from me about all this, just stop me sometime. I’m rarely at a loss for words or an opinion.