In our household, baseball isn’t just a sport; it’s woven into the very fabric of our lives. When the time came for our daughter to step up to the plate, we knew she had some big expectations to meet. With two teenage brothers who have spent countless hours on the field, and parents who have coached and played for years, Olivia was destined to be a baseball enthusiast—whether she knew it or not.
What many outside Southern California don’t realize is that there is no defined “baseball season.” At the high school level, it’s a year-round commitment: summer ball, followed by fall ball, winter ball, and then spring season. Before reaching high school, children can join Little League from age four, filling our calendars with games, practices, and volunteer work. And let’s not forget travel ball, which can begin at any age, though it comes with a price.
Our boys, Ryan and Luke, participated in all these leagues simultaneously, which has kept my husband and me constantly on the move, often dividing and conquering on weeknights and weekends. So, you can imagine our surprise when we learned I was expecting at 40. As I saw the positive sign on the pregnancy test, my first thought was, “Where will I put a stroller and car seat?” My mid-size SUV was already overflowing with equipment bags and other baseball necessities.
We made a strategic trade: farewell to the compact Volvo, and hello to a spacious SUV. I stepped down from my Little League coaching role, and when Olivia joined our family in November 2011, we couldn’t wait to welcome our little rookie into the fold.
Given that she was born during a whooping cough outbreak, we were cautious about exposing her to crowds for the first few months. Nevertheless, just three weeks in, she made her debut at a travel ball game. True to form, Olivia adapted seamlessly. While I nursed in my foldable chair, she never missed a pitch thrown by her brother Luke. If Ryan’s evening games were too cold, we’d cozy up in the backseat of our SUV, watching the action unfold from the parking lot.
When All-Star season arrived, I customized her onesies with Luke’s team colors and jersey number, though Olivia often snoozed through the games, tucked away in her stroller. She easily matched the family vibe at Luke’s weekend tournaments, sporting her mini zip-up hoodie. I even snagged a dark brown sweatshirt on clearance, featuring the El Camino High School baseball logo in pink—an exclusive gem for her wardrobe.
Now that she’s four and developing her own sense of fashion, coordinating outfits has become trickier. I hit a home run with a personalized “Lil Sis” tank top adorned with sparkles, though my attempt with a “My Brother Can Get Your Brother Out” shirt flopped miserably. Convincing Olivia to wear it even once required a candy bribe!
Baseball has opened doors for Olivia, taking her on adventures across San Diego County. At just six months old, she road-tripped to Las Vegas for Luke’s tournament, and she’s visited Arizona multiple times to cheer on her brothers. This year, she even flew to Denver for Ryan’s college baseball opener.
She has braved games in sweltering heat and bundled up for icy matches amid snow flurries. This past March, we took in ten games in just seven days, and I can’t count how many times people remarked, “She’s such a trooper.” It may sound cliché, but it’s true. Of course, keeping her entertained requires an entire crew to haul her gear—thank you, enormous SUV! Our stash includes fruit snacks, juice boxes, coloring books, stickers, and even a dollhouse-sized duffel bag.
Olivia has a small entourage of high school cheerleaders who have adored her since Ryan was a freshman. By the time he graduated, she’d built quite the fan club. But what she treasures even more are the rare occasions when one of her brothers’ teammates has a sibling close to her age. When there’s a gap of 12 to 15 years between siblings, these moments are few and far between.
In the absence of peers, I owe a big thank you to my fellow baseball moms. They’ve shared candies, toys, and even played with Olivia during long innings, embodying the saying that “it takes a village.”
As seasons change, it’s normal for Olivia to sometimes struggle with remembering which player belongs to which brother’s team. There are times she’ll ask, “Will Sarah be there?” But Sarah’s brother, like Ryan, is now playing college ball.
Four years into this whirlwind of baseball, we’re starting to notice signs that Olivia’s enthusiasm may be waning. In a tone that’s almost whiny, she sometimes asks, “Can we go now?” before the first inning is even over. With over two years left in Luke’s high school and travel career, plus Ryan’s college games out of state, there’s still plenty of baseball ahead.
However, Olivia is developing her own identity, and we’re unsure if she’ll share the same passion for the game as the rest of us. Just last weekend, while attending a college game for a friend’s son, I watched as she momentarily paused from her book and asked, “What are we doing here?” It’s clear that she’s beginning to question her place in this baseball-centric world.
Everyone wonders when Olivia will transition from spectator to player. Will she eventually step up to the plate and follow in her brothers’ footsteps, sporting the number 9 and claiming third base? Or will her interests lie elsewhere, perhaps in the tiara she wears while pretending to be a Disney princess? Sure, she enjoys hitting wiffle balls and beams when she catches a ball in her tiny glove, but would she still be interested if the equipment wasn’t pink?
I can’t help but wonder if being born into a baseball family has instilled a love for the game in Olivia, or if it has pushed her away. Only time will tell. For now, as she revels in dance and pony riding, I must prepare for the possibility that she may not want to play ball someday.
The answer is simple: as supportive parents, we will embrace her choices. But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss the excitement of the game—the crack of the bat, the thrill of a stolen base, and the chance to voice my opinions on umpire calls. And what a shame it would be if I no longer had the chance to showcase my infield dirt removal skills during laundry time.
Regardless of her future pursuits, I know I have plenty of cheering left in me. I would likely transition well into being a horse show mom or a dance mom, and I might even find my footing as a soccer mom. But truthfully, I’m already batting 1000 as a baseball mom, and I can only hope that my little girl will eventually find her passion in dirt and diamonds too.
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In summary, as Olivia grows, we navigate the ever-changing world of youth sports, remaining hopeful that she will find joy in the game that has shaped our lives.
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