T-Ball

To Bob's extreme joy, Elsa has now started little league. She played in the Mequon Jr. T-Ball League, which was every Tuesday and Thursday morning for all of four weeks, at Range Line elementary school right by our house.

The first two sessions were "drills." After that, the kids were divided into teams and played "games." Elsa was on the Tigers. (I told her that would be good luck, since that's the name of Grandma Baldwin's favorite major league baseball team).

The league is great about allowing kids to be on the same team as their friends, so the Tigers ended up being the unofficial Schlitz Audubon Nature Preschool team. The Tigers were dominated by Elsa's classmates Tim and A.J., who ran for the ball regardless of where it went on the field or what position they happened to be playing. But it was good that they did, since most of the other kids (including Elsa) were lucky if they were even facing in the correct direction when an opposing player was up to bat. Thanks largely to A.J. and Tim, the Tigers were undefeated this year. (Of course, I have a sneaky suspicion that every other team in the league was also undefeated. Hmmm.)

Unfortunately, I don't think Elsa was a huge fan of T-ball. At one point, after crossing home plate, she immediately turned to the coach and asked, "Is T-ball done now?" And I'm not trying to make excuses for my little natural-born athlete here, but I do think the equipment caused some problems for Elsa. You would think the bat must have weighed 200 pounds from the way she huffed and puffed to swing that thing. And every batting helmet was so large on her that they would slip down over her eyes, and it was a wonder she could hit the side of a barn, much less a ball on a T. She had to hold onto her helmet as she ran the bases, or it would fall right off her head. Even the supplied team T-shirt was huge: I had to knot it at her hip to keep it from being a dress. But she sure did look cute out there with her knotted shirt and tiny purple glove!

Granted, this league was for 4- and 5-year-olds (turning 4 by August 31), so Elsa was probably one of the youngest there. Maybe next year she will have grown into the bats and helmets. And who knows, maybe Bob will follow through with his promises to drill her in hitting, catching, and running before it starts again next June. (Basically, everything except throwing. She may be bad at all the other stuff, but this girl still has an arm on her.)