Ollie’s First Swings

Baseball has been very special and important to me for as long as I can remember. And to tell you that passing that love down to Ollie is something that I truly hope to be able to do is very high on my parenting wish list would be an understatement.

Already in his little life we’ve watched games on TV together (including on Father’s Day, which was absolutely perfect) and played catch with little balls in the house and even gone to his first Blue Jays game at the Rogers Centre in Toronto. They are memories that I cherish already in his first two years, and I look forward to making many more.

Related: Baby’s First Baseball Game

This week, we started the next set of memories and passing down the game when we went outside to the small yard at our condo building with the plastic bat and ball that Ollie got for Easter.

In my heart, or maybe my imagination, I thought I’d lob him a pitch and he’d hit the kind of towering fly ball that people are showing off on Twitter. I’d cheer and then he’d cheer and it would be magical.

That didn’t happen.

But, we had fun.

Ollie giggled and ran around with the bat in one hand. He picked up the ball and threw it a few feet at a time. Sometimes he kicked it. Sometimes he gave it to me and I threw it to him so he could hit it. He never put two hands on the bat. He never stood still to take a swing (but he did sit down in the grass and take a couple of swings like that). And to say we’ve got a lot of work to do on technique would be another understatement.

We did make some contact, and that was a lot of fun to share. He liked it, I liked it, his mama liked it.

The sun was shining.

It was spring.

It was perfect.

Baseball is in my blood. My dad loved it and my grandpa loved it. My mom loves it and my brother loves it. I’ve cheered and played and smiled and cried because of it.

Some of my favourite childhood memories come from the baseball diamond. Some of my happiest, calmest, fondest moments as an adult came at Rogers Centre, watching baseball.

I’m hopeful that we’ll get to make more memories. He’ll grow to love baseball in the same kind of way that I do.

I don’t know if that’s going to happen. But it would be great.

For now, we’ll head back out into the yard again on a sunny day. I’ll lob the ball underhand at him (aiming for the bat as best I can) and we’ll cheer when he hits the ball.

I’m good with that for now.

It’s already one of my favourite parts of being a dad.