Special Olympics Baseball
My 15 year old daughter plays Special Olympics baseball. Not softball, no no. She plays the real, all-American sport of baseball. Every Saturday night (sometimes several hours earlier) she gets all decked out in her uniform.  She has the official long baseball pants and logo jersey, and a very official, embossed hat from our major league team of choice, The Minnesota Twins. 

I help coach the Twins. Coaching gives me a great view of all the action. It also gives me the occasional opportunity to pitch which is sort of like trying to hit a moving bat with a ball.   

The Rules
1. Every game is preceeded by the Special Olympics pledge.
2. On defense, there are no outfielders, pitchers or catchers. Everyone plays infield. Coaches pitch and my son is the "Behind the plate" retriever for both teams.
3. After each hit, coaches usually roll ground balls to the infielders then bedlam ensues. Upon fielding, scooping up, stepping on, or chasing down the ball, all the fielders throw their ball back to the pitcher at once.  This is great fun for everyone... except the pitcher.
4. On offense, everyone bats every inning. There are usually two or three innings per game followed by a cheer, a hand shake, and a massive group sprint around the bases while the spectators applaud.
5. If a batter makes any contact at all, fair or foul, they usually run with extraordinary exhuberance to first base. I say usually because a few weeks ago, Brian stopped halfway to first base to tell his mom that he was hungry.
6. Every batter hits a single except the last batter of every inning who routinely hits a Grand Slam.

From 1st to Home
A few weeks ago, my daughter was playing in the general vicinity of first base. A very tiny, new player named "Tia" had just arrived at first base and was greeted by my daughter. After a very brief conversation, my daughter decided that Tia did not know where to run next.  Taking Tia's hand, she assured her that "It would be alright".  So they ran, hand-in-hand, from 1st base all the way around to home, one base at a time.  My daughter never removed her fielders glove and she never stopped talking.

The impact on me was profound. I was instantly reminded of a song by my friend David Roth called "Nine Gold Medals".  You can listen to most of this song by following the link above.  You might grab a tissue before you click though.

Be Well