Coach

Clare first went to her hitting coach the summer between eighth grade and high school.  She’d fallen into a rut, game after game of hitting the ball back to the pitcher, and one of the dads on the travel team suggested she go to the same hitting coach his daughter used.  My daughter fell in love with the idea of an hour’s worth of uninterrupted batting practice.  I tried not to sour on the idea of having to pay $60 an hour for someone else to pitch my kid.

 

Truth be told, Clare and Coach formed a bond that lasted through college.  The first three years of high school, she pretty much did things on her own, outside of what her varsity and travel coaches preached.  Senior year, though, she wanted back with Coach and even offered to help pay for lessons.  So, back she went.

 

They talked about “visualizing” at-bats, “power loads” and the “power triangle.”  I had little idea what any of it meant, but, given the number of homeruns my daughter hit over the next five years, I had little reason to complain.  Then Clare graduated, and, suddenly, there was no need of a hitting coach.  Coach had mentioned at one point how he might branch off on his own and wanted to hire Clare as an assistant.  Now, that would have been interesting.

 

Several years ago, Coach had a family tragedy that put the world of athletic wins and losses into perspective.  And now a son of his has hit a homerun in the NCAA D-I Baseball World Series.  Clare couldn’t be happier for her old coach.  Maybe she even visualized doing the very same thing herself.