a while? We have our own balls and I just want to do a hand-toss batting technique. We won’t need the machines at all; I only need the cage. I will pay you five dollars for every thirty minutes if that’s good with you. We shouldn’t be more than an hour and a half.”
I could see he was considering my offer.
“Okay,” he replied. “I have some work to do anyway. That should be fine. You keep your baseballs in the car, and I will get mine out of the machine for you to use. Please be careful and don’t get hit.” He smiled and went to open the lock on the chain-link door.
Soon, Nigel was standing at the rubber home plate, which lay on the concrete floor of the batting cage. Hans had asked if he could help the attendant collect stray balls from the other cages and was now running around on his stitched leather Easter Egg hunt. I sat in my folding chair, positioned ninety degrees to Nigel’s home plate. I was duplicating a technique from one of the videotapes I had watched.
Basically, I would lightly hand toss a ball straight up over the plate while Nigel waited with his bat pulled back, ready to swing. For him, it would be one forward motion in an effort to simplify his movement and develop good form. He also needed to get accustomed to the new bat and gloves.
It all worked to perfection.
Because of the light-weight T-ball bat, Nigel had great control with excellent bat speed. He hardly missed a single ball of the first thirty I tossed. We took our time and concentrated on stance, wrist action, and a level swing. We eventually progressed to hip motion, a full follow through, and keeping his eyes on the ball through contact. It was magical. I could see his confidence increasing with each pitch. A smile came to his face and he was having fun playing baseball again. By the end of the second set of thirty balls, he had developed a very smooth, much more relaxed swing. Muscle memory was beginning to take over and it seemed he could not miss.
“After this one, let’s take a break, Nige,” I said and removed the last ball from the bucket at my side. “Grab the water Mom packed for us so we can have a drink.”
Nigel hammered the final ball and went to get our refreshments. Hans was busy walking step for step with his new machine-attendant friend. He was much more interested in this novel adventure than in baseball. No worries, at his age there would be plenty of opportunity in his future to be more serious about sports. Sometimes, just being a kid is most important.
Nigel returned from the car with the thermos and sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of me. I got out of my chair and joined him on the wet concrete. We talked. We laughed. I tickled him. He pulled my hat down. It was absolutely the best ten minutes of my week. We finished up the night hitting the final forty balls to complete one hundred for the evening. That immediately became Nigel’s new goal.
“Can we hit a hundred balls every night, Dad?”
I could never have imagined the impact of that statement. The number 100 would have unbelievable significance in his future goals: 100 sit-ups, 100 push-ups, 100 kicks of the soccer ball, 100 catches of the football, 100 practice baseball pitches, 100 laps in a go-kart, 100% on any test in every subject at school. It would define who he was and be the basis for a lifelong work ethic. It was marvelous. It also became the moment we began to confirm that with hard work and dedication there was nothing we couldn’t accomplish together.
That evening, after our nighttime routine, Hans lay under the covers and asked, “Did you see me and George fixing the machines to get ready for tomorrow, Dad?”
“I sure did, Buddy, it looked like you were a big help!”
Hans nodded in agreement and rolled over to face his stuffed panda bear.
Nigel was quiet as I rubbed his head and softly sang to them. When I finished, he looked up at me and said, “Thanks, Dad.”
The words went straight to my soul. There was simply no better feeling. I paused to look into my young son’s eyes and considered how our Father in Heaven feels when we take a moment from our busy day to do what this child had done.
I smiled and answered as God would, “You’re welcome, son. I love you. And remember, together, we can do anything.”
When I went back to the living room, I found Mary Lynn sitting on the couch sipping her coffee. She always had a cup in the morning to get her day started, but coffee at night meant she had been working on a project. Her half-smile was trying desperately to conceal a joy that was bubbling out of her heart.
“What?” I asked, knowing her all too well.
“What do you mean?” She wasn’t going to give it up, yet.
“You know what I mean. What’s going on?” I replied and sat down next to her.
“Oh, nothing.” She smiled at me over the top of the ceramic cup.
“Don’t give me that! I know something’s up!”
I began to tickle her. She could not defend herself very well, as she held her coffee at a distance while trying to keep it from spilling on the couch.
“Okay, okay!” she said between laughs. “Here, I found this for you.”
With that statement, she pulled a piece of paper out from behind her back. It was a copy of an advertisement on eBay. I examined it carefully and exclaimed, “You are kidding me? Is this real?”
I could feel the excitement in her reply, “Of course! I called him, and they will be here Thursday.”
“Thursday? Really? That’s awesome!”
I stared back at the paper in my hand. I was looking at a full set of Penske shock absorbers for less than half price. The caption read, “Trans-Am team changing to Ohlin shocks due to sponsorship program. Excellent Penske’s for sale. Call after 9:00 a.m.”
Mary Lynn smiled and looked at me with her explanation, “You said if I found a set for that price to buy them immediately. I have been searching the Internet today and made the deal right after dinner. The shocks are in California, and, since they are two hours behind us, it was only four o’clock there when I called. They will ship them out in the morning.”
“Money?” was my one-word question.
“We’re good. I was looking at the checkbook while you were with the boys. You told me when you talked with Jim the other night that he said he could go half on the cost, so we will be fine. I will call him tomorrow and let him know the final bill.” She had it all under control.
“You are the greatest!” I said with my best impersonation of that famous Mohammad Ali proclamation. Then I jumped on her and began messing up her hair until she begged for mercy. We ended with a hug and a kiss. Finally, I looked in her eyes saying, “You really are the greatest, Babe.”
CHAPTER 8
In Uniform
Wednesday night was a repeat of Tuesday. Hans did not come with us to the batting cages because he went to a friend’s house after school. He would eat dinner with them before being picked up by Mary Lynn. Although some other boys were using machines, Nigel and I elected to repeat our hand-toss drill to solidify his swing. All went well. Once again, we took a break after the sixtieth ball. This interruption would become our unannounced time to bond and enjoy one another. After the 100th swing, we loaded into the car and started a new tradition. We stopped to get gas and went into the Quick Mart for a snack. Nigel picked out a natural fruit blend smoothie and handed one to me.
“It’s good for you, Dad, just drink it,” he said with a smile. He knew I much preferred a Dr. Pepper but was determined to train me how to be healthy.
Thursday brought the excitement of new shock absorbers and Nigel’s ball practice. The entire crew was in the shop when I handed the cardboard box to Richard, who unpacked it with elated expectation. We all said silly, “Ooohs and Aaahs,” with each shock he revealed. Mickey immediately began taking measurements