Baseball, and learning to accept defeat.
I have never been an athlete. But I raised one. A baseball player, specifically. He started playing T-ball when he was about 4 years old. He didn't have pushy athletic parents, obviously me nor his father were trying to fulfill some sort of unfulfilled personal athletic glory. We never played sports, but we were happy if sports were his thing. He asked us as a little bitty boy if he could "join the team" and we had to do research to even know where to sign him up. He played all the way through his senior year in high school. He was really good at first base, and he had some good successes at bat and running the bases too. He loved the game. He still does at the age of 25 as a young professional. He plays corporate softball at the advertising agency where he works, and he watches every game he can that his favorite team, The Texas Rangers, plays in. Now comes the part about learning to accept defeat. As a four year varsity player, my son had to endure several untimel...