The Greatest Time of My Life by Chris Camden (mind reading books .txt) 📕

When my children were young I was never the best father, at least in my mind. I had grown up without much of a father figure in my life so the only dads I could compare myself to were the ones on television. All I knew was I was definitely not the Father Knows Best type. I would work long ten to twelve hour shifts in a local factory. When I would arrive home I was usually worn-out and grouchy. The kids would soon learn just to stay out of my way in those days. I was never abusive, just stressed and not in the mood for nonsense. We had good days along the way, I guess, but they always seemed few and far between.
On my days off or the weekends after work I would always watch sports. The one thing my three sons and I could bond over was a ballgame. They loved sports as much as I did. After a good baseball game they would always talk me into going out in the yard and playing catch. During football season, we would go out and play football. Whatever the season that was our game. I really bonded with them during these times. It seemed all my worries and tiredness would just melt away when I was out in the yard with them.
As the boys got older I started to see some real talent starting to emerge from all of them, especially in baseball. It always seemed that the older one would push the younger to try even harder. I guess that’s the natural competitiveness among brothers. I, on the other hand, was never the type of parent to force them to try harder. I cherished those moments and never wanted to ruin it by complaining or yelling at them to catch the ball or run faster.
When they were old enough to start playing tee ball and pee wee league I was stuck on the night shift at my job. It just killed me knowing that I could not be there to watch and cheer them on. I was lucky enough to be moved to day shift by the following spring. After watching several practices with my two younger boys pee wee team, the coach asked me to help him out. I was scared to death to be out in front of all the parents telling their kids what to do. Once I started to get into the swing of things with the boys, all my worries just faded away. I was having the time of my life. It never occurred to me that I was the “teaching type”, but after a few practices I realized this was pretty fun. Taking a child that had never been taught to throw a ball or swing a bat and seeing him get his first hit or throw out a runner was suddenly the highlight of my day. All the weariness and stress of my life was just gone for those few short hours I spent with the kids.
After spending the first summer being an assistant coach, the next year I found myself all alone. I was now the head coach with no one else around to take the heat from the kids or the parents when something was not being done the right way. We spent two or three evenings a week practicing for the season. No matter how tired I was or how bad of day I had, I was out there teaching these guys to hit and throw a ball. It always amazed me how most parents would just drop off their son and drive away. They never seemed to take interest in how they were doing in practice. When summer finally came and we started the regular season, the parents were there in full force to watch the games. I would hear things from the kids or the parents about how this boy shouldn’t play this position or my son should not get to be the shortstop, but I always let the comments roll of my back. I knew I could never let these things get to me because it would ruin all the fun I was having with the team. That year we won the city championship, suddenly the attitudes had changed toward my coaching skills. The parents could not believe that I had taught this bunch of kids to play as well as they did. Everyone would congratulate me and my response was always the same, don’t tell me tell the boys they did all the work. I was just as excited as they were about the season but I made sure the kids got all the credit.
I spent the next couple summers coaching pee wee then when my kids were old enough we moved up to little league. This was a whole different animal for them and me. A lot of the boys coming up were only nine and they were facing twelve year olds that were pitching fast. It probably looked like a ninety mph fastball being pitched to them. I had the unenviable task of teaching them to try to not be scared of the ball when they were standing in the batter’s box. I worked so hard all summer trying to get the boys to stand in there and have confidence. By the end of the summer we had finished second in the league. This was quite an accomplishment for the boys after losing our first few games of the season.
After the season we always had a tournament between all the teams in the league. We won the first game, then the second. By this time the boys and I were starting to believe maybe we could actually win this thing. They had improved so much over the summer and I was so proud of them, I just wanted to see them win it all because they deserved it. It all came down to the final championship game. It was our team against the team that finished first in the regular season. The boys seemed ready to concede the victory to them before the game even started. They knew as well as I did that they had the best pitchers and some of the best players in the league. I stood up before the game in front of the kids and told them that no matter what happened just keep trying and play as hard as they could. I was trying as hard as I could to hide the fact that I was just as worried as they were.
When the game started we played pretty well. The innings kept slipping by and the score stayed surprisingly close. The kids were playing great, hardly anything was getting by them in the field and they were holding their own at the plate. The next thing I know it was the top of the sixth inning in a six inning game and we were down by one run. The coach on the other team was putting in his son to pitch. This kid was one of the most feared little league pitchers out there. He had a reputation for hitting a lot of right handed batters throughout the season. This scared all the kids in the league. I had stayed at the field late one night and watched him pitch from the stands behind the plate. I noticed that his pitches either went inside to the right handed kids, which is why he hit so many, or they went right down the middle of the plate. I went into the dugout and seen the look of despair on the boy’s faces when they saw who the next pitcher was. It was then that I gave the most inspirational speech to a team that I had ever given. I told them to hold their heads up and be proud of the way they had played so far. I also said that he was nothing to be scared of; I explained he would either throw inside or right down the middle. If he throws inside get out of the way and if he throws down the middle smash the heck out of the ball. As I walked out to first base, where I coached the runners while we were at bat, I was wondering if what I said had really sunk in or not. It did not take long to get my answer. The first batter nailed a base hit, and I looked back into dugout and said “see guys I told you, now it’s your turn get out here and do the same thing.” As the boys came up, each kid smashed the ball harder than the one before him. I am a large man six foot three and about two hundred and fifty pounds, but at that moment I was twelve years old again. I was jumping up and down screaming at the top of my lungs telling the kids to go, go, go run like the wind. I was hugging each one as they crossed the plate, I don’t know who was more happy me or them. It never occurred to me how I looked or what I sounded like; all I cared about was the kids and the look on their faces. At that moment I was a dad to every one of those boys. I could not have been more proud if they were actually my own children. It was, at the time, the single most exciting thing I had ever done. I took a team full of wide eyed scared kids and showed them how to believe in themselves. The whole team batted that inning. Every single player on the team hit the ball hard before we made three outs. We ended up winning by ten runs.
My boys are grown now; one even has a child of his own. I have talked to them and apologized for being such a pain when they were growing up. I think they understand now that they are older and have seen the stresses that life can bring. We all have a really good relationship in spite of it all. I just don’t think they will ever understand how much those summer nights meant to me so long ago. I finally felt like Father Knows Best at that moment. In my mind it was like a story from a television episode. I would not give up that feeling for anything in the world. I have tried to explain to them to not let life get them down. Try to enjoy the little things when you can. You just never know when life changing events are going to occur.

Publication Date: 07-05-2010

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Dedication:
This book is dedicated to my family whom i love more than anything