Never let the Fear of Striking out, Keep you from Playing the Game

I'm sure the guy had no idea. I'm guessing he saw a dad with his young son at the ballpark ready to spend an enjoyable evening together when he graciously stepped up to my husband who was waiting in line and asked if he needed tickets. My husband was taken a little aback, expecting that the man was trying to sell them to him. What a great surprise when he realized they were a gift. Two tickets right behind the home team's dugout!

Or maybe the guy did have some idea. Maybe the large headphones atop Jacob's head drew the man to my son. I'm sure Jacob was waiting impatiently, so maybe he thought he would give this dad a break. Maybe he could sense my son's nervous demeanor, or could see that anxious look in his eye.

I'm sure Jacob was nervous. It was only his second game of the season. Certainly not the second game he has watched. He has watched and re-watched almost every game by his favorite Major League team this year. But going there is a whole different ballgame for Jacob. There no longer is the security of home, and he has to face his fears head on.

The first game my husband took him to, Jacob did great. It was a surprise and he packed him in the van and didn't tell him where they were going until they were almost to the stadium. There wasn't time for Jacob to get too anxious. He did excellent and when Jacob called to tell me about the game, I could hear in his voice how proud he was of himself. About halfway through the game he started getting a little nervous. His team was winning, and he knew that meant fireworks at the end of the game. He started asking for me, saying he wanted his mom. When that approach didn't get him results, my ever thinking child began cheering for the opposing team. What a logical approach. If the other teams wins, no fireworks! But his favorite team ended up pulling it out. They stayed the entire game, even for the fireworks at the end. Sure my husband had to hold him down through some kicking and flailing and attempts to flee, but Jacob did it.

Knowing that Jacob's psychiatrist had recommended he attend as many games as possible, he was due to go to another game. It had been a few weeks since that first game, and it had gone fairly well, so it was time to try again.

My husband came home from work, and told Jacob to change his clothes and put on one of his favorite baseball jerseys. Jacob went in and changed, but didn't make the connection until he saw his dad changing into his team wear as well.

"Daddy, are you going to the baseball game?" Jacob asked.

My husband looked at me wondering how to handle this. Do we tell him and risk the impending meltdown? Or do we continue the surprise effect to ward off any anxiety until there?

"Yes," my husband said, "and you are going, too." My husband and I were both holding our breath, waiting to see how this would play out.

"No way...," Jacob replied, but as he said it a big smile formed on his face.

That was it? No fighting? No insisting on staying home? No kicking, screaming, door slamming, running, or hiding, just "no way" and a smile. Wow!

Jacob has made HUGE progress in the last few months. It has confirmed for us that we made the correct decision starting him on anti-anxiety medicine. Sure, you could tell he was still a little uncertain, but there wasn't that crazed panic that we had seen so many times in the past.

Jacob calmly helped his dad pack a bag of treats for the game. He calmly got his stuff together, kissed me goodbye, and started talking about the game's potential outcome. Someone unfamiliar with Jacob's Aspergers and anxiety would have had no idea they were witnessing something truly amazing, and would have seen it for what it was, a dad and son heading out to the ballpark.

According to my husband, Jacob did wonderful at the game. Although a little more nervous this time walking in, his nerves were quickly calmed. As his team made hit after hit and was dominating the game, Jacob gave everyone around him high fives after each play, including the man who had given them the tickets.. Jacob even made it on the jumbo tron, just him waving at the camera with a huge smile on his face and headphones covering his ears.

My husband said the seats were great. Being right behind the dugout, Jacob was able to see all his favorite players up close. And at the end of the game, my husband yelled out to one of his favorite pitchers, who seeing Jacob grabbed a ball and tossed it up to him. Jacob came home all smiles talking a mile a minute thrilled with his "real major league" ball. And when he told me about the fireworks, it was as if it was a non event.

I hope while sitting next to my son, the generous man who gave my husband the tickets realized that out of all the potential people he could have chosen, he couldn't have made a better choice. I hope he realized how incredible my son is. I'm guessing by the end of the game, he knew that Jacob wasn't your typical young fan. I'm sure it was obvious my son's love of the game and his team. And I'm sure he enjoyed my son's knowledge of the game. I'm guessing he didn't know my son has Aspergers, but probably knew there was something different about my son. But I'm sure he didn't realize the battles and struggles it has taken for Jacob to get to this point.

This kind stranger witnessed a treasured moment. A treasured moment between father and son. An evening together at the ballpark, something taken for granted by so many dads, but not my husband. This moment, is one my husband has dreamed of for a long time.