Saturday, April 11, 2009

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Beautiful Day+Baseball=Bliss

Saturday was a monumental day for the Dart family, it was opening ceremonies for Zac's first year of little league. If you know us or anything about us, then you know that we love baseball. I was raised in a family where we played baseball in the yard on summer nights with the neighborhood kids until we either got chased inside by the mosquitoes, or it got too dark to see the ball. My mom and dad's front yard was a perfect ball field and the pine tree in the southeast corner of the yard was a perfect spot for home plate. Sometimes we'd have enough kids gathered to have two legitimate teams. It was so much fun. Our house was just a baseball house.

I wasn't around in Spanish Fork during Kyle's childhood years, but I know that the only other family I've ever known who loves baseball as much as my family, is Kyle's. Kyle reminisces almost daily about growing up in a baseball family, in a baseball town, and his deep love for the game. His parents were the perfect match for a family of five boys who love sports. Rod was always coaching and Ann was always cheering her boys on. I can only imagine the traffic in and out of Ann's house on a summer day with five active little boys with a neighborhood of friends! Wow, now I'm exhausted!

When Zac was really small, his love affair with the game had already begun. He can rattle off baseball trivia, mimic the batting stances of at least 30 professional baseball players, and sing every word of Talkin' Baseball. He is so observant and seems to remember everything and loves to learn. He asks so many questions, which is sometimes frustrating, because I run out of answers. He remembers everything I say (sometimes good, sometimes, not so good). Tonight, we were driving home from a visit with Aunt June, and I turned on the Tomahawk Chop music to get the boys ready to go home and watch the Braves first game of the season. Zac asked, "Mom, is this real Indian music?" I answered, "It's kind of a battle cry." He responded, "Who were they battling?" So I said, hoping to not go into a full US History lesson, "They fought lots of battles. Some against each other and some against settlers taking over their land." Then he said, "Did they battle against those people who came to America from England before it was even America because their king wouldn't let them woship how they wanted so they came on big ships? What were they called, anyway? I can't remember!" I looked at Kyle and said, "Did you teach him about that?" Kyle said, "Yeah, at least two years ago." The I told him they were the pilgrims and he reminded me that they were kind of like the pioneers.

His vocabulary amazes me and he is constantly correctly Will's grammer (I have to remind him that Will is three years old). He loves to sing and play the guitar. He is so polite and very well behaved. I think you get my point...

We love baseball for so many more reasons than the actual playing of the game. It is the all-American game. Kids who play sports learn life skills that cannot be learned in any other way. They learn teamwork and respect.

This has somewhat turned into a brag session about Zac because it was a special day for him. He got a few hits, knocked in a couple of runs and made several plays in the field. He's making new friends and growing up and we're so proud of him. He's a great example to his brothers (who aren't too shabby either)!

Enjoy these pictures from the day. I forgot to mention that Zac is 5 years old and playing on a team for 7-8 year olds.




This is his first single in still frames. Look closely in the second picture and you'll see the ball bouncing off the bat.
Running the bases.

Zac plays beside the pitching machine. It's kind of a shallow second base. He insisted on sticker eye-black because he saw Jimmy Rollins wearing it.
A couple of Zac's new friends, Aubrey and Clay.
Excited about their first win.Will did this all during the first game. He had his own little audience.
He was tired during the second game, so he stayed close to dad.