Lessons

We had a Saturday evening of babysitting at Clare’s so she could go out with Chris for a Mother’s Day dinner. Cue the chasing and puzzle-assembling. Eventually, my grandson ran out of gas, to the point he actually sat next to me on the couch; naturally, the White Sox game was on TV. A tip of the cap to Miguel Vargas for his two homeruns in a 6-1 Sox win over the Mariners. This allowed me to do my hitting-coach thing. “Do you see how he hit just like you did today?” I asked Leo, referencing a ball he launched a few hours earlier off a tee into the outfield. Then I said what grandson and ballplayer both did, they “saw the ball and made sure to hit it,” after which I started talking about the strike zone; like souls, we all have them. “You have one, your mom has one, your dad and even me.” Next, I talked about knees-to-armpits, along with an imaginary plate that follows everyone around. “You don’t want to swing at anything too high or too low or way outside.” Walks, I said, are good. At 4-3/4 years old, does he know four balls equal a walk? Well, you have to start sometime. Lessons on Sam Antonacci hustle to follow.