Well, here we go again.  This week finds ol’ Robbo coaching at a softball camp for the younger players in the neighborhood, ahead of the “fall ball” season that starts some time in the near future (in which, thankfully, I have not been asked to manage although I’m sure I’ll wind up coaching).

We’ve got about 25 kids in the camp between the ages of 6 and 10, including my own 8 year old.  We split them into squads of four or five based on age and sex and send them through a circuit of drill stations.  Last evening found your host handling the grounder drill.  It was the first time I’ve tried coaching kids at any level other than that of my own gels, and it was a bit of a challenge to change wavelengths in such rapid order.  On the other hand, it also was amusing to flip from the “Ooooh, good job, sweetie!” line used on a bunch of near-infant girls to the “Let’s move it, gentlemen!” bark more appropriate to a gang of older boys.

I’m hoping that the coaching assignments get switched from day to day.  They were using a pitching machine to lob fly balls last evening and I couldn’t help glancing over in envy from time to time.  It looked like the coaches were having as much fun chucking the balls as the kids were catching them.