Can I tell you something about success?
Tonight my son came up to me and told me he was glad I was there.
He had a doubleheader today in baseball: two games. He plays center field and had a nice RBI double, but the play he was talking about was the game-ending double play.
We were up by one. The other team had a man on third and the winning run on first, and we only had one out.
Their next batter hit a ball high and reasonably deep — a great sacrifice fly ball to tie the game and send it to extra innings. But Aidan caught it in mid centerfield. Their base runner tagged up and ran to home. Aidan threw it on a rope to the catcher, who caught it on one hop right on home plate … and their runner ran right into the tag.
Double play. Game over. We win. The stands erupt and the team celebrates.
Aidan made a great play.
Later, at home, after a bath and some chill time with YouTube, Aidan came up to me and told me he was glad I was there and saw his play. Yesterday I had missed one … he had laid out, diving after a long run to make a spectacular out. But I mostly missed it, because I was working concession that game, and only saw it from a distance.
(Each parent takes three turns on concession through the year. It’s how we keep team fees down.)
He was happy that I saw his good play. That means in spite of my screw-ups, in spite of my failings, in spite of the things I should have done better, he wanted me to be there. It mattered to him that I saw his game.
It mattered to him that his dad saw him doing well. Saw his success.
That humbles me, and makes me incredibly thankful. And it makes me feel like I succeeded, too.