Jackson's first season of Little League baseball is winding down. We (as if I played) were 7-1-1 during the "regular" season and are 1-0 in the playoffs so far. We won last night 11-1.
Throughout this season, I've kept up with Jackson's stats at the plate. (For the record, he's 10 for 20 with 3 homeruns, two of which were legit). Maybe I took it a little too far. But the kid's good; I just wanted to track how good.
Now I don't have delusions of him starting one day at center field for the Yankees or anything (maybe the Rangers, but not the Yankees). But this is a sport that just seems to come naturally to him. And he enjoys it.
But last night, as I watched him step up to bat in the 2nd inning, something dawned on me. I saw something more than a kid enjoying a game. As he walked up to the batter's box, all of a sudden, my little boy wasn't so little anymore. He stood there at the plate, eyes focused on the ball, and he swung the bat. Hard. This wasn't the swing of a little kid hoping against hope to hit the ball. This was a swing of a boy who's becoming something...bigger.
Yes, there are many times that he still resembles that little boy who used to say, "Moot me, Nootney" rather than, "Excuse me, Courtney." Yes, there are still many times that the immaturity rings loud and true through the hallway.
But last night, as he focused on that ball, I saw a glimpse of a strong, determined, focused, driven young... man, I can't believe I'm saying this... man.
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