I never imagined playing baseball would be near impossible for my son, Elliot, at fifteen years of age.
Elliot’s baseball days began early in Irvine, California starting with TBall. It was the perfect activity to help my son grow, develop, and build new friendships. He loved the sport and everything that came with it. We lived and breathed baseball. Irvine was rich in community providing the best fields and amenities for any parent that enrolled their kid in the sport.
As Elliot’s paternal father, I had the privilege to coach my son’s team for 6 straight seasons, and later become the president of Irvine Little League, and coached older teams at the same time.
The volunteer network was both exciting and challenging. The competition for status and position was always hovering above with die-hard parents that wanted to see their son excel. I have countless stories among the players and their parents. Elliot and I loved it. Our home field was Las Lomas Baseball Park on top of the hill near Newport Beach. These were the best days.
Teenagers were grooming themselves for High School tryouts, and were pushed hard by their parents to build their skill levels and strengths on the field. The competition was huge, and the disappointments were always unwanted. What had started as a fun sport activity had become a life challenge to make it on a high school team that could open doors to college ball. I remember having one of my intermediate players come to me in tears, sobbing because he felt he was not good enough. The pressure on these older kids was amazing.
Watching my son grow into an amazing baseball player from his first day on the pitcher’s mound is the greatest thing a father can experience. The memories are endless, and the joy was simply gold. Elliot learned so much and applied his skills off the field, as well, in Cub Scouts, Karate, Art Design, and much more. There are no words to describe the joy being Elliot’s father.
But everything came crashing down when COVID-19 had arrived, closing all the baseball fields and other activities. Elliot was just getting started with his first travel ball team, and getting positioned with older players. But another unexpected catastrophe had arrived in my home: my wife took Elliot away from me on Friday morning, and left our home. Moreover, my son Elliot was brainwashed and alienated from me wanting very little if anything to be with me. There are no words to describe the pain and suffering to this day I live. I lost everything. The life I had came to an end. Maybe someday I will write about this, but it’s still too difficult.
Elliot was taken from me like a thief robbing a home. Elliot was taught to hate his surroundings, judge, and condemn his father, which continues to this day. Gosh, its just too painful.
Elliot was taken by her mother to Spring Lake, Michigan where baseball is incredibly scarce. In California there was a baseball field on every corner, but in West Michigan there are only a few fields and only two travel baseball teams. There were no options for Elliot, and the team tryouts available were only for 17U teams. I wanted to give Elliot every opportunity he deserved, but the doors would not open for him. Baseball in his area closed. Thus, I attempted to build a pilot for a travel ball team, hoping to get some other parents and players interested. Its unbelievable not one person responded.
Elliot wanted the team name to be the Falcons, so I built this for my son.
Sadly, when Elliot’s mother took Elliot away from me, she was also taking away his baseball.
I miss you, son.
