Front and Back

Everything was backwards—I pitch out front and play catch in the yard. No, wait. I did out front with Clare. Leo wanted to hit in back. Everyone came over for dinner yesterday (White Fence Farm fried chicken, family pack, hush puppies to die for), and there was enough time for a half-hour of hitting. Leo also wanted to show off his new shoes. “They’re fast,” he declared before losing a race with the dog to the kitchen. “Why is Penny faster?” “That’s because she runs on four paws,” I answered with the wisdom of a grandparent. It was also dinnertime, and my dog will not be beat to her bowl. In another two months, I’m going to switch out bats so that my grandson is swinging the same one his mother did at that age (3-5/6 years). What impresses me isn’t so much that he can put plastic balls into the neighbor’s yard so much as his doing it off of live pitching instead of a tee. Maybe that makes him further ahead in development than his mom, maybe not. I never even thought to pitch to Clare at the exact same age. But it should get interesting come June.