Pitching for Disaster

Pitchers’ elbow is a real thing. Your arm gets sore, fingers twitch from pinched nerves. For me, the worst pain was knowing that my terrible form on the mound and inability to get the ball across home plate in the strike zone might destroy my son’s little league season.

When my son first expressed interest in tee-ball, I happily assisted the coaches, as it took more than one authority figure to corral a dozen four-year-olds. The following spring, the league added a new question to the registration form, asking parents “Are you interested in coaching? How about assistant coaching?”

I checked “assistant coaching.” Surprisingly, the league commissioner called a week before the season started. I’d been designated one of the six head coaches for the upcoming season. Which started in six days. And I needed to be at the clubhouse in two days, to greet my players and distribute caps, uniforms, and socks to their parents.

My son had played tee-ball the previous spring and autumn. Two games into the fall season, his coach announced that kids needed to try to hit underhand “softball-style” pitching as a gateway to the next level of play.

Luckily, I had been working with my son in the backyard several times a week, at his urging. His older brother would sometimes patrol the makeshift outfield on the other side of the yard, on the odd chance…