My Tenth Athlete, But Number One In My Heart

Tells you everything

It's the tenth and final night of the challenge to show pictures of ten athletes that I like (or liked) to watch play.

My first inclination was Derek Jeter. Then it was Mariano Rivera. But, also Jorge Posada and Andy Pettitte and Tino Martinez and Bernie Williams and Thurman Munson and Ron Guidry and...

But, what about Patrick Ewing and Michael Jordan?

Brian Leetch? Ryan Callahan?

Rebecca Lobo? Tamika Catchings?

Pete Sampras? Phil Mickelson? Serena Williams?

Then I began to think about the players I've covered -- John Sullivan, Pat Wilson, Tim Smallwood, Gavin Muir, Kevin Shattenkirk, Tyler Matakevich, Aaron Sabato, Mustapha Heron...

It's overwhelming.

And, then? It became easy.

The correct answer is...

10) Sean Adams -- Who else, but my son? Let him represent literally everyone else. But, then again, I loved watching him play. Or, try to play.

Sean didn't see sports as something he was going to play for years, but as time with his dad and teammates. He attacked it the way he attacks everything -- with dedication to show up and play every day. He never missed a practice or game in five years.

He treasured that I was his coach and it was fairly obvious he wouldn't stay with it if I stopped. He loved the uniform process and picked a new number every year (basically, it was his only perk --getting first dibs on a uniform).

He loved marching in the Opening Day parade, and the little tradition I built where the team tipped their caps to the crowd. But, eventually, he grew frustrated. He struggled to hit and it embarrassed him.

After five years, he grew weary. He would have to face live pitching from other kids beginning the next and that was enough. He told me his feelings. Some were relieved. I was sad, of course. Those five years, while a huge time and energy investment, were wonderful.

But, to continue, it literally would have been for me, and there was no way I would do that.

There was no press conference or retirement ceremony. It just ended. In fact, we lived in Mahopac but lived in Carmel for his last year, so he lost touch with most of his teammates when it was all over.

He still has his "Paul O'Neill Award" for his passion (guess who he got that from?), along with the awards he received for his dedication to playing, including the famed "rain game" in T-ball where there were probably only four kids combined between the two teams. But, we still played, and had a blast.

(If the league didn't postpone, then I would be there. Simple as that)

His batting helmet, bat, and other equipment still sit in a rack near my old stuff. Lucy "Snakey" Shultz, a similar style "all heart" player, used Sean's glove in Wilton for a stretch. I would have loved to have seen Lucy and Annabelle both play, thus making my tenth choice a little tougher (or a combined one), but no harm.

Sean is the obvious answer.

He knew he was stopping for the right reason. He didn't practice at home. The game just didn't consume him the way it did me. To this day, he doesn't watch games but likes to go to games and is all over going to Cooperstown.

Pictures of Yankees hang in his room and he can actually name some of them (some of the others are much tougher). Baseball (and sports) is sort of a running gag between us.

He cares, but it's not him.

He's still my tenth athlete I enjoyed watching. I treasured pitching to him and teaching him to throw and watching him run and working on other fundamentals. I probably failed somewhere.

But, no regrets.

I loved every moment.

He'll always have a place on my team.