Week 31: '10 Aston Martin DBS

I know very little about Aston Martins other than Sean Connery drove one in the early James Bond movies.

This newer model, like its Bond predecessor, looks cool and built for performance, speed, and comfort.

Also, the silver and red reminds me of colors on a school's sport jersey.

Of course this leads me to middle school baseball, which began yesterday for my son, who is in fifth grade.

When it comes to sports, my son and I are not Aston Martins. We are not cool, nor built for speed nor performance. I am seldom comfortable.

There is still time for him.

We aren't out of shape, and we love the outdoors, play catch and Frisbee and so forth, but I never played team sports, and, unfortunately, my son hasn't been indoctrinated into early baseball/football training like other kids on the team.

[Deep breath] I hope none of the other dads on my son's team read my blog: 

Going to my son's baseball practice stresses me out. 

I may be breaking guy code by admitting this, but when I'm at practice, I feel nervous and awkward. Most of the other dads at practice are so ... sporty. I feel self conscious. 

Meaning, as a guy, I stand around pretending to not be self conscious in the least, all the while praying the  ball doesn't roll to me, requiring me to throw it.

Watching my son, who does just fine, by the way, also makes me nervous. While the other kids seem to be firing the baseball at 100 miles an hour with in-the-glove precision, my son isn't. He drops the ball. His throws fall short. He doesn't quite get the baseball swagger correct.

In short, he is a little version of me, and I feel guilty, like I inadvertently set him up.

I have a difficult time watching for the same reason I couldn't watch tight-rope circus walkers as a kid. I just worried too much they might fall.

This is as much disclosure as I can muster on a public space, but I feel relieved, like I just stepped out of some type of bullpen confessional.

I've admitted it. Going to my son's baseball practice STRESSES ME OUT.

Which is why my son must not read this blog.

See, I fully believe in the benefits of playing team sports, and I heartily encourage him to participate, practice, stumble, learn, have fun, and remain confident that he has tried his hardest and is just fine.

I also believe you should be comfortable in your own skin, and accept everybody has strengths and weaknesses.

I believe that, and while I am able to attain that transcendence in other areas of my life, I'm not there when it comes to baseball, basketball, football, soccer, volleyball, or any other competitive sport.

But that is my issue, and one I'm working on fixing.

To him, I must be calm and cool and confident.

Like Bond.

 And I will be.

Hot Wheels Aston Martin photograph courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.

Aston Martin part of the 2010 Hot Wheels All Stars collection.

... and I really don't throw that bad.