Baby Steps

It took Clare to stop playing softball to have her first real road trip, eleven days and three cities, including a five-hour stopover at Midway in Chicago for a connecting flight from Colorado to Florida.  Did I mention the 87-degree temperatures my daughter had to endure last week?  Poor baby.

But the transition from player to coach really is hard, especially for anyone who spent her entire career as a starter.  (See somebody’s softball records for the Elmhurst Bluejays to get an idea.)  Coaching is all the worry, none of the fun of playing.  How else to explain the tub full of dirty uniforms in Clare’s hotel room?  Or the 400 miles of driving a van full of D I players who have no idea how good they have it?  OK, some of the driving was to Cocoa Beach, but still.

The payoff for those so inclined to suffer through the above?  Clare was able to talk to some girls after their at-bats and have input on at least one lineup (and it won).  That’s why she doesn’t complain (except to her parents) about having to get out of bed at 4:45 AM to catch the early flight back to Indiana to be followed by a night class and paper due.  I’m not sure I could manage it, but I’m proud of the child who’s done it so far.