The coaches had to remind him repeatedly to watch the ball, not them. He tripped over the obstacle course and completely ignored the cones he was supposed to be weaving through. But he threw the ball hard and far and consistently assumed a proper batting stance.
He loved it. I loved it.
The mother of one of the other boys had his 2-week-old sister with them. My tall, intense boy seemed closer to the gangly teenaged coaches than to that squishy, soft creature sleeping in the carrier seat.
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