When summer rolls around, certain sounds and smells remind me of summers past.

Anytime I see a big cloud of dirt blow across a field or piece of ground, I think of the years my kids played baseball. For the most part, the years were pleasant and it was great to see my kids enjoying themselves. I can still remember details of spectacular hits or plays, as well as a few injuries. All were few and far between, but spectacular enough to be remembered, just like basketball, football, gymnastics and dance triumphs. 

Every kid oughta have at least a moment in the spotlight.

I think the early years were the best, when everyone was still learning and just figuring out what an organized team was supposed to look like. I’ve always wondered what organized sports would be like if there was emphasis placed on teaching and giving opportunities, especially in the early years.

Instead of the focus being merely on winning.

I liked the T-ball and coach pitch years. At that time, the job of coaching was still within my skill set and I was able to get by without anyone pointing and yelling “Imposter!” It didn’t take long for me to hit remedial level and soon I was relegated to parent spectator.

Time went on and season after season, some of us began to see shades of things to come. Some kids, even as little bitties, started taking all types of side lessons on hitting and pitching and the like. Small groups of kids and their dads began having hush-hush practices at the ball diamond.  It wasn’t long before some kids left the town league teams for the “bigger and better.” 

Am I bitter? No. My kids couldn’t afford to be on those select teams, nor were they interested. They enjoyed walking to the ball diamond near our house, and they were happy with the camaraderie that still existed among the hangers-on who continued to play town league ball.

Over the years, we had made some great friendships with our ball team, and I always felt we were a different sort of team. For a long time, I really felt that the team my kids played on was the type of team that really defined what league ball should be. Everyone got to play a little, and everyone continued to be taught and learned.

But it all really ended one day when a group from “our team” decided to move on to a select team. When I told one of my sons about this, he thought for a while and said he did not want to participate anymore, which was not an easy decision for him. All of my kids made decisions about the athletic parts of their lives, and I did not push. I only advised them when they asked me.

Now for a parallel subject. Bear with me.

During one of my last teacher institutes before I retired, I decided I’d follow my teaching friends (who weren’t retiring) around.  One of the seminars was entitled “Tripping the Prom Queen,” which sounded pretty girly, but most of my colleagues are ladies so…  I went anyway. I ended up being one of the most outspoken people in the group, which was really a meeting of lady teachers who had read the book.

Have you heard of the book? I never actually went ahead and read it, for fear of my “man card” being totally revoked, but it sounded interesting. 

If you look at the summary on the back of the book, you will see the book tells about the rivalry that exists between all women.  It is apparently a deep, dark secret of female companionship. All this stuff about women supporting one another and wanting each other to succeed is a bunch of bull. 

A large number of women were interviewed, and most of them admitted, in secret of course, that women are vicious to one another, even their best of friends. It can be extra brutal due to the fact it is all so clandestine.

Even now, there are women reading this who say “Well, good heavens.  That’s not me.”  

And maybe it isn’t you.  Maybe you really were glad when Sue Ann got the homecoming crown and you were second runner-up.  

If so, good for you.

The seminar facilitator, who had read and re-read the book, talked about the secret rivalry, why women won’t admit to it, how women are actually trained by their own to be in competition from an early age, the areas where there is the most competition,  and how envy and jealousy often consume ladies.  

Although, bless their hearts, they won’t admit to it.

Since I was the token male in the room, I decided to throw guys under the bus and admit that the same sort of stuff goes on with guys; it’s just packaged a different way.

I’ll go a step further and harken back to the days of kids league baseball. Parents deal with the same sort of “tripping the prom queen” mentality when it comes to their kids. Go to any game and you can see the craziness and gall that often seeps out of parents.  As bad as it is, you sort of think your own circle of parents are different and above the rest.

Eventually, we lost friendships and dealt with sore feelings when it came to our kids and competitive teams. Things were said to us. Comments ran the gamut, with almost every comment other than “your kid just isn’t good enough to make the cut.”

At times, it was heartbreaking to say the least.  To think adults would sacrifice friendships for the sake of their kids and a fantasy sports career is puzzling.

But it opened our eyes.  And I’ll say it again. When it comes to our kids and getting them ahead in the world, especially in the area of sports, parents will gladly “trip the prom queen.”  

Whatever the prom queen symbolizes.

When our kids are involved, all bets are off.