Winter has just begun and already Connor's baseball team is being put together. Though (almost) all of the former team members are in the same grade (there is a rock star younger sibling who plays on the team), the age ranges make it such that the boys could qualify for a couple of different leagues. In one league, the boys would stay together, in the higher league, the boys would be split up. Our coach, who has committed so much time to all of these boys over the past several years, has decided to stay in the lower league, where the boys can stay together. I don't know what the other boys will be doing, but I am so grateful that Connor has the opportunity to have one more spring with his coach.
I feel confident in saying that Connor will not become a professional baseball player. I'm fairly confident, in fact, that he won't play into high school. I'm less certain about what will happen in middle school. (But given what a confusing time this is for kids, I'm sticking with a general policy of not trying to guess about this piece of the future too much.) Which just means that this might well be his last season of baseball.
Every time one of my kids gets close to a "last" of anything, I get a little sad. I think I'm sadder about this one than most because Connor really does love playing ball, and a part of him still really wants to be a professional baseball player. Which just means that if this ends up being his last season, it might also be the season his dream dies. I have, of course, told him there are other baseball related careers that might be good paths - including becoming a sabermatrician or agent. I have yet to convince him these careers would be very cool, but maybe thinking about them this year will give him a soft landing.