Post by DiamondThief on Aug 19, 2015 21:14:21 GMT -8
Aug. 19, 2015 -
My second-oldest brother was about 10 or 11 when he came home from baseball practice one day. It was near the beginning of the season and he was pretty excited about playing Little League that year. When I really think about it, Kevin was always pretty excited when a new season started.
Right after dinner (he always seemed to inhale his portion and seconds; sometimes thirds), he would make his rounds around the house. My oldest sister, Kassandra, would usually be reading. This was the time when my next-oldest sister, Jessica, would spend 30 to 60 minutes practicing the piano.
Next was my turn. I was seven years younger than Kevin. He was cordial; almost beating around the bush, until he started to talk about baseball, his team and his practice that day. “Let me show you what I learned.”
Not being a fluent reader yet, nor musically inclined, I would only have watched some television otherwise.
“Sure,” I said.
We would go out to the back yard with a bat, two or three baseballs, and he with his glove and me with an old family glove which seemed to fit half way up to my forearm. It must have been a funny site.
The laughter ended when he started to show me what he had done that afternoon in practice.
“When you are in the field you have to stand this way. Always keep your glove in front of you. When the ball goes this way, go diagonal forward to meet it. Always go to the ball.”
All of those were common statements. There were a lot more specifics.
After a while I noticed something though. He was not just showing me what he had learned. He was coaching me. He had gone from a player in the afternoon to coach in the evening. He would tell me years later that making that transformation helped him better understand what his coach was trying to teach him.
I loved every second of it.
Kevin played baseball in Little League and for a couple years in high school. We had such a connection and when he decided to stop playing because he was starting a new job at age 16, I understood. From that time, I could see he missed it. I even would call him out for a game of catch or some batting practice here and there. It was not quite the same as when I was three and four, but that connection was still there.
My second-oldest brother passed away last December after suffering a blow to the head while on a construction site. There were a few sub-contractors on the job and his was one of them with the company he had started, doing bathroom and kitchen remodels. Five days after the accident, while in a coma, my parents were forced to take him off life support.
That was the saddest day of my short life.
I do not think about the stages of grieving. I know I went threw them. I just do not care about them. What I have now about my brother are countless memories of he as the coach and me as the player. What I have is memories of a brother whose eyes were bright as he spent time with his willing guinea pig. It was fun for me too.
Tomorrow morning I will take off for my first year of college. My parents, youngest sister, Monika, and I will head east, stay for a night in a hotel, and then move me into my new dorm in the morning.
I am excited and terrified at the same time. There is comfort in the fact I have seen my two oldest sisters go off to successful college careers, as well as my brother go halfway across the world in the United States Army.
Over the summer I have been looking back at my 18-1/2 years. I have been thinking of all the memories I have had with my parents and siblings. Growing up, our house was incredible. We had little squabbles which mean absolutely zero now. We all have always been coming and going at different speeds.
My parents have been every bit of amazing, wonderful and terrific. If one of us wanted to try something, they made it happen. Music, sports or clubs. If we were interested and dedicated (they would make sure both were true), they would find the money and they would find the time to not only help us follow our interests, but to encourage us and be there to support us.
My oldest brother is as honorable as my father (and his father before him). Like Kevin, Brian and the athletic one of his younger sisters connected on the level of sports and other things. He is married now, living just outside of San Francisco. He and his wife, Charlene, have a daughter (my niece, Amanda) and another child on the way. We share a mutual respect which I treasure.
My brothers Brandon and Keith, and I the three amigos. I cannot count the laughs and great times we have had talking about everything and nothing. Keith will be the oldest at the house soon and I think he is up to the challenge. Brandon is starting his own life and is engaged. Our family is getting bigger.
My sisters. What do I say about these three girls whom I absolutely love with no limits and with no ends. From Kassandra's intelligence and patience, to Jessica's ability to bring anyone and everyone up when they are down, to the wonder I see in Monika's eyes when she engages in conversation with her older siblings. We are the Four Musketeers. We are all so different our pursuits and so equal in our love for each other.
As of tomorrow, Monika, in particular, will have seen all three of her older sisters leave the house and go to college. She thrives on having a full house and she is a heck of a mingler when we have family get togethers. It has been mentioned before among our family and I think it is true; Monika appears to be growing up to be a combination of her mother, father and older sisters.
As I go off to college, I am thinking about the future and what this new experience will bring.
I am also thinking about all these memories I have accumulated over my life. It seems amazing to me that there are so many. A lot of things seem like a blur. Then again, there are very vivid memories which I always treasure.
This upcoming softball season, if I can earn a spot on my school's softball team, I will learn a new set of new rules, guidelines and strategies. It will be a new level and a new challenge. I feel I am ready. I will have a new coach to teach me those things. However, I will always remember my first coach.
Thank you, Kevin.
- Angi
Angi Says is a periodic blog written by the general manager of the Sports Coast to Coast forum. It generally features topics from the sports which are covered on the forum.
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My second-oldest brother was about 10 or 11 when he came home from baseball practice one day. It was near the beginning of the season and he was pretty excited about playing Little League that year. When I really think about it, Kevin was always pretty excited when a new season started.
Right after dinner (he always seemed to inhale his portion and seconds; sometimes thirds), he would make his rounds around the house. My oldest sister, Kassandra, would usually be reading. This was the time when my next-oldest sister, Jessica, would spend 30 to 60 minutes practicing the piano.
Next was my turn. I was seven years younger than Kevin. He was cordial; almost beating around the bush, until he started to talk about baseball, his team and his practice that day. “Let me show you what I learned.”
Not being a fluent reader yet, nor musically inclined, I would only have watched some television otherwise.
“Sure,” I said.
We would go out to the back yard with a bat, two or three baseballs, and he with his glove and me with an old family glove which seemed to fit half way up to my forearm. It must have been a funny site.
The laughter ended when he started to show me what he had done that afternoon in practice.
“When you are in the field you have to stand this way. Always keep your glove in front of you. When the ball goes this way, go diagonal forward to meet it. Always go to the ball.”
All of those were common statements. There were a lot more specifics.
After a while I noticed something though. He was not just showing me what he had learned. He was coaching me. He had gone from a player in the afternoon to coach in the evening. He would tell me years later that making that transformation helped him better understand what his coach was trying to teach him.
I loved every second of it.
Kevin played baseball in Little League and for a couple years in high school. We had such a connection and when he decided to stop playing because he was starting a new job at age 16, I understood. From that time, I could see he missed it. I even would call him out for a game of catch or some batting practice here and there. It was not quite the same as when I was three and four, but that connection was still there.
My second-oldest brother passed away last December after suffering a blow to the head while on a construction site. There were a few sub-contractors on the job and his was one of them with the company he had started, doing bathroom and kitchen remodels. Five days after the accident, while in a coma, my parents were forced to take him off life support.
That was the saddest day of my short life.
I do not think about the stages of grieving. I know I went threw them. I just do not care about them. What I have now about my brother are countless memories of he as the coach and me as the player. What I have is memories of a brother whose eyes were bright as he spent time with his willing guinea pig. It was fun for me too.
Tomorrow morning I will take off for my first year of college. My parents, youngest sister, Monika, and I will head east, stay for a night in a hotel, and then move me into my new dorm in the morning.
I am excited and terrified at the same time. There is comfort in the fact I have seen my two oldest sisters go off to successful college careers, as well as my brother go halfway across the world in the United States Army.
Over the summer I have been looking back at my 18-1/2 years. I have been thinking of all the memories I have had with my parents and siblings. Growing up, our house was incredible. We had little squabbles which mean absolutely zero now. We all have always been coming and going at different speeds.
My parents have been every bit of amazing, wonderful and terrific. If one of us wanted to try something, they made it happen. Music, sports or clubs. If we were interested and dedicated (they would make sure both were true), they would find the money and they would find the time to not only help us follow our interests, but to encourage us and be there to support us.
My oldest brother is as honorable as my father (and his father before him). Like Kevin, Brian and the athletic one of his younger sisters connected on the level of sports and other things. He is married now, living just outside of San Francisco. He and his wife, Charlene, have a daughter (my niece, Amanda) and another child on the way. We share a mutual respect which I treasure.
My brothers Brandon and Keith, and I the three amigos. I cannot count the laughs and great times we have had talking about everything and nothing. Keith will be the oldest at the house soon and I think he is up to the challenge. Brandon is starting his own life and is engaged. Our family is getting bigger.
My sisters. What do I say about these three girls whom I absolutely love with no limits and with no ends. From Kassandra's intelligence and patience, to Jessica's ability to bring anyone and everyone up when they are down, to the wonder I see in Monika's eyes when she engages in conversation with her older siblings. We are the Four Musketeers. We are all so different our pursuits and so equal in our love for each other.
As of tomorrow, Monika, in particular, will have seen all three of her older sisters leave the house and go to college. She thrives on having a full house and she is a heck of a mingler when we have family get togethers. It has been mentioned before among our family and I think it is true; Monika appears to be growing up to be a combination of her mother, father and older sisters.
As I go off to college, I am thinking about the future and what this new experience will bring.
I am also thinking about all these memories I have accumulated over my life. It seems amazing to me that there are so many. A lot of things seem like a blur. Then again, there are very vivid memories which I always treasure.
This upcoming softball season, if I can earn a spot on my school's softball team, I will learn a new set of new rules, guidelines and strategies. It will be a new level and a new challenge. I feel I am ready. I will have a new coach to teach me those things. However, I will always remember my first coach.
Thank you, Kevin.
- Angi
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