About 10 years ago, we were asked to take over the local Challengers Little League team. Challengers is for kids with any type of disability, and the rules are set for participation, not for competition. (No strikeouts/walks, every batter hits every inning, companion fielders/baserunners as needed, etc).
The local team was struggling- kids were frustrated, coaches were trying but not making much progress.
My first call was to my father, now approaching his 70th birthday. In his hey day, he was a top fastpitch softball pitcher. He beat the King and His Court (in their prime), he has a wall full of MVP trophies- he is a legend in the region he used to play.
I said, "Dad, I need you to pitch one more year." He laughed. Then I explained the team and league, and he agreed. "But", I said, "There's one thing. Instead of making the batters miss the ball, I need you to hit the bat."
See, a lot of these kids were severely involved. Eye/hand coordination was not good. For some, the bat was too much for them to swing very well.
Dad agreed. First practice, he stepped on the mound, and told each batter to take a few practice swings. Within 1 or 2 pitches, Dad timed and hit the bat almost perfectly. No mater the bat speed or swing plane, he found the sweet spot.
During games, other coaches commented on how well our team batted. No one used the T stand, and everyone got a hit within a few pitches. Kids were bragging about how hard they were hitting the balls and hoping in the future for extra base hits.
Dad never said a word. He walked off the field and let everyone have their moment in the sun. You ask him about his pitching days, and he'll start right off with 'when he pitched for the Challengers team'.
Sometimes we need to see life through a different lens. Sometimes we need to evaluate success in different terms. Sometimes, we need some special kids to teach us what's important in life.
(Sorry can't get the picture to orient properly. You get the idea.)
