Every year we put Paul in baseball.  He seemed to enjoy it, but two years ago we got a bad coach.  One of the super competitive ones, that didn’t seem to realize that most of the team had never played before.  At the end of the season when they lost the city finals he cancelled the windup.  So last year we had to drag Paul literally kicking and screaming to play, the year before had been such a bad experience that he didn’t want to do it ever again.

The season started out as expected, by evening his Concerta had worn off and he couldn’t focus.  He was the kid standing in the field throwing rocks at other players.  Not in a mean way, they were playing but he was distracting the rest of the team.  We talked to his doctor and decided to give him a supplemental Ritalin in the evening.  It was a night and day difference, half way through the season he was awarded the Zach Finch award.  This is the MVP on a team as voted by the coaches of the other teams.

Monday night Paul had his first game, and struggled to concentrate.  He knows that something was different last year but couldn’t remember what it was.  He seemed to be in the game, but after the game he told me that he couldn’t focus on the game because he was trying so hard to focus on the game.  Winning that award was a huge boost for him, and the first time we have ever seen him proud of himself.  Which for us is more important than if his team wins.  That’s what was missing the first year, a sense of pride.  Last year they made it all the way to the last game and lost.  They had fun and a windup, and laughed about how well they had played as a team.

Thank you to all the coaches out there that remember what the game is about.

~Living with Paul