The other day, as I watched my daughter take batting practice from her new batting coach, my eyes shifted to another batter that was being coached by another teacher. Her swings were slow, the ball was glancing off her bat and trickling into the batting screen. Her hips were not rotating and there was no power being generated from her swings.
The coach then took some time with her to show her some techniques that would help her in her quest to be a better hitter.. They spoke for about 10 minutes. Or should I say the coach spoke for 10 minutes and the girl listened.
As I gazed back and forth between my daughter and this other girl I realized that after about 20 more minutes of hitting and talking with her coach that this girl ( we will call her this girl ) was smacking the ball. Projectiles were streaming off her bat. That loud crack from her bat was reverberating in the facility.
It dawned on me. That this is why I love this game so much. I loved that crack of the bat. I loved hitting that ball so right. I loved it when the ball whistled in the air. Enjoying the other aspects of the game like base running, fielding, and throwing were great. But, I was deeply passionate about hitting. The supreme challenge was why I started playing this game and why I continue to enjoy watching it today. The anticipation of watching a great batter get ready for the pitch. Awesome.
As I continued to watch my daughter, Manteee, and this other girl hit better and better I could not help but feel an enormous amount pleasure. They were transforming in front of me. Whatever those coaches told them and whatever those two girls absorbed from their coaches was generating solid hit after solid hit.
I could not believe how happy I was for my daughter and the girl I did not know. There is something wonderful about learning and that willingness to be taught. Even though I only watched them I felt as if I was part of what was evolving in front of me.
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