Growing up, it seemed like we lived at the ball field in the summer. Between practices and games, it was my world. I was blessed to have a father that was also my coach through most of my baseball years.
I learned a lot about what a “real” coach looked like. I don’t remember my father ever being anything but encouraging. If you made a good play, he was quick to acknowledge your effort. If it was a bad play, he would be quick to encourage and lift you up. We won championships and there were times our season wasn’t quite so grand.
I remember watching a little league coach get mad and throw third base into the outfield over a “perceived” bad call. Being on the opposing team, we joked that we were glad he only threw the base and not our third baseman. What did that accomplish? NOTHING…
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