04/24/2026
π¨π¨ WARNING /// LONG POST TO FOLLOW π¨π¨
I want to share an accomplishment with y'all, but also a glimpse into the life of a coach.
It happened last week when my daughter, competing for her school, was finally put in a game, and I don't mean that negatively. She's right where she's supposed to be. However, for those who know her, I think they'll agree: the girl is a heck of a hitter, and one who will spray the ball all over the field. That said, she has never hit one over the fence. Well, last week was different, and as a dad, I witnessed something that brought me pure joy, and fear. Fear of the celebration. My baby girl has worked so hard to be a prepared teammate, and in that moment it seemed like she was about to experience her first-ever traditional home run. In those few seconds of flight, I got emotional as hell. All the hard work, she was about to feel the reward. She was about to remember βwhyβ we play the game. Well, it hit the top of the fence and came back in. That feeling didn't go away for me, but part of me wished she could feel, just for one second, what I felt for her. That's the first two videos above, my daughter hitting that shot, twice in one game.
Fast forward, and now I am the coach of a CROWS daughter. Not my biological child, but one who adopted me as her coach. We had a first yesterday, a traditional home run. Charlotte finally got to feel the moment I described above. She felt the "why," and allowed all of us to feel it with her when she immediately started celebrating as she rounded the bases. In a world where a π or ππΌ tells you how many people care, it will never compare to the number of people who truly see you. Yesterday, we all lived through Charlotte and were reminded of the "why" one more time.
To Charlotte and the CROWS, celebrate these moments, be there for one another, and never forget βwhyβ we play(ed) the game. Congrats, Charlotte. Many more to come! Charlotte is the third video.