An Athletic Ignoramus

Today was a busy, busy day. The boys played all morning with babysitter Hannah while I fought the frenzied crowds to score Title Nine goodies at great prices. After naps, we packed up and went to the pool, and Mason had his second lesson with Sam Valdez, whom he loves. Ashton was scheduled to have his lesson right after Mason, but he didn't take to Sam as well as Mason did. After jumping to him a couple of times, he just looked at him and said "no-ooooo". Sam offered to spend ten minutes with Ashton after each of Mason's lessons, free of charge. I'll take that!
When swimming and snacking were done, we changed into T-ball attire and went over to Cal-Zorn to play ball. Poor Mason, with just his athletically challenged mom to assist him. I had to ask the coach which hand he was supposed to wear his glove on. The kid standing next to us in every drill was named "Blade". He was wearing mirrored sunglasses (the kind that make me chuckle when I see grown men wearing them) and a mini ball uniform complete with snug-fitting little pants. His dad was threatening him to shape up his form while his mom stood behind him and positioned him for every throw of the ball. I was busy concentrating on not cracking Mason in the head with the ball every time I returned it, not too worried about how Mase was throwing it.
It was mildly embarrassing for me, I noticed a few pitying looks directed at Mason. Remember, also, that I am still in my swimsuit and dress-style cover-up from the pool. I'm sure everyone thought I was the single mom trying her hardest to make up for the lack of male influence in her son's life. In retrospect, that might have been a better card to play than simply "terminally klutzy". I ask you though, how am I to know these things? The terminology, the rules, the correct forms? They certainly did not teach T-ball etiquette in ballet class, which is the only activity I was engaged in as a small child. I guess what I'm saying is that it's my mom and dad's fault. I would be more graceful and sporty if they had enrolled me in more early activities! That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Fortunately, Sean got out of work really early tonight and showed up at the field to help. I cannot tell you the relief I felt, I'm sure it was visible on my face. After he took over, I was relagated to outfield, to retrieve the balls that Mason hit or threw.
The moral of this story is that Mason will try everything once, if I can get him to. I want him to have a basic knowledge of all things sports, to save him the embarassment of being one of two players cut from the middle school volleyball team....er, I mean to give him an advantage when he decides what activity it is he does want to do.
Martial arts? You bet.
Gymnastics? Yep.
Soccer? Check.
Golf? Absolutely.
Baseball? Check.
Football? Um...........I'll get back to you on that one.