Game face!

Connor has one. Last summer I told the story of Connor's sudden, unexpected intensity on the starting blocks of his first swim race. I now see this for the pattern it is. Connor seems to have another gear when it is game time. He has shifted up to a more competitive baseball division this Spring, so they actually keep score and standings, even though there is still also a definite developmental focus.

It seems that to get Connor's interest things have to count. To be fair, by the end of last season he took his at-bats fairly seriously, but it was nothing compared to this year. Out he comes from the dugout striding purposefully to home plate, where there used to be a wandering, looping path. Where he used to sort of situate himself anywhere in the vicinity of home plate, facing more or less towards the pitcher, bat akimbo, now he parks himself in the batter's box, raps the plate with the bat 4-5 times and locks into his stance, eyes steady on the pitcher. Honestly, I would pay money just to see this even before he swings. He's hitting the ball about 50% of his times up which for his age group is pretty good, and hitting it hard sometimes too.

Playing in the field is a bit more of an adventure. When he's in the outfield, there's very little we can do to keep him focused. It would appear that he is choreographing a future solo dance recital of some kind, because he sees this as the time to rehearse an interesting routine in front of an audience. It's evidently a free-form, interpretative kind of dance. When he's in the infield though, he's shown better focus. There is a bit of wiggling and playing in the dirt to combat, but the other night at third he dived to stop a ground ball, which turned out to be foul. And then he fielded a ground ball and knew to try to tag the kid coming to third. Kid turned out to be a little too fast and was by him before Connor could get the tag down, but still he knew what to do.

Thanks Jamie!

I had an affirming conversation with Jamie the other day. We were in the car and he heard something about old players in the NBA and asked how old the oldest player was. I answered 40. He thought minute and said, "I don't think that that's so old." I agreed. Then he said, "I mean you're 41 and you're really good at basketball!" Now, granted he's seen me play maybe twice and I don't think he paid very close attention, to say the least, but I'll take it!

Actually, it's funny they are always angling to come with me to my Thursday night pickup basketball games. It is mainly because they like the vending machine there. Also, there are some ramps and places to hide so they get very into that, not watching Daddy play. As it happens, this is at a church gym and there is a seniors line-dancing class going on at the same time, and they get very dressed in Western gear and pouffy skirts. The boys went to watch and found it more or less the funniest thing they'd ever seen.