I am sure every parent has stories about how great their children were at their favorite sport. Some kids are just naturally born knows the rules and static’s of almost every sport. The problems arise when they start to play. Something’s are just plain hard to explain.

One of my most vivid memories of my son's Little League Experience was at the beginning of the season. All the parents and future players had to attend a meeting. Along with the discussion about insurance, fees, uniforms and safety, one of the coaches insisted that all the little boys wear a “cup”. I understood and appreciated the concept of protected our sons, but my husband had a gleam in his eye and suggested I handle this.

When we got home I went over the rules with my six-year-old son and told him we needed to get him a “cup”. He had a real confused look on his face and informed me baseball players get trophies not cups. I wasn't too sure about how to say this in a way he would understand so I sat him down, I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Its sort of like a bra for boys...He jumped up and told me in no uncertain terms he wasn't about to wear a bra. I hardly had time to get between him and the door when he tried to make a run for it. “Boys wear it below the waist.” He froze for second, relaxed and smiled “OH, you mean That kind of cup”.  “Good” I thought to myself, “finally I am getting somewhere.”

The next day we went shopping at sporting goods store .He walked in ahead of me. The clerk asked if he could be of any assistance. I told him we needed to get a “cup” for my son before he could play Little League. “What size do you need? ”The clerk asked. “Large”' said my four foot something son.” The clerk looked at me with a pleading look on his face. I guess he realized this was a delicate area, which he didn't want to tread. Perhaps he was afraid if he said the wrong thing he would scar my son for life. All males seem to be born with pride about their anatomy.

“Let's look at the Youth sizes and go from there?” I replied and Ben stood there alternating standing on his toes to make himself look taller.

We purchased the necessary size and went home.

When it was time to get dressed for the game, Ben took a shower and put on his newest prized possession. He came into the living room with his New York Yankee socks on and the “cup” with both hands covering it. He removed his hands and said, “Is this the way it’s suppose to fit?”
“Looks right too me but ask your dad, I never wore one”

“Well where is the rest of it? He said as he twirled around to reveal a bare bottom with the elastic straps holding it in place. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Well it looks like you have it secure. You don't want it to slip when you are running.” I managed to say with a straight face.
I have to say I am glad Ben had to wear the “cup” because he was the shortest kid on the team and the other kids couldn't get within his strike zone. They usually hit him. For a while I think he thought he was playing Dodge Ball and they were just letting him hold a bat. They always lead with him up to bat first and he always made it to first base. If he had half a chance he would steal bases and slide in with about as much dirt scooped up in front of him as there was under him. He was little, quick and fearless. I spent half the games with my hands covering my face.

He still enjoys playing ball. He's not little any more and he can hold his own. When he’s at home plate with a bat in his hand. He can make out fielders back up and he can pitch a fastball. He just hasn't gotten over being quick and fearless. When he plays I am usually holding my breath and yes I still cover my face at times.