Wiffle Ball

I was in the midst of writing this blog about how fun tonight would be because our oldest daughter was going to participate in a park district Wiffle Ball League...only to find out from my wife that the class had been cancelled due to lack of registrations.

There were two.

Hey, Megan and I do just fine playing Wiffle Ball by ourselves in the yard. My brother and I played many a game in the old days one-on-one. But, only two participants isn't enough for this particular league, so they'll try to offer it again in the spring.

I have mixed emotions about this development. My daughter has been a monster hitter for most of her short Wiffle Ball career, routinely raking my underhand pitches all over the yard, and many times over the fence into our neighbors' yard behind us.

I think I've lost about 3 years on the life of my knees from all of the climbing (not so bad) and landing (bad) I've had to do to retrieve the ball over the years.

It was because of her hitting prowess that we signed her up for this league.

My hope was that she'd enjoy it enough to eventually want to play in a softball league. She's only eight, and has never played an organized sport, and so far has been lukewarm on the topic.

However, already enjoying, and excelling at Wiffle Ball -- albeit in the backyard -- this seemed like a natural, and she was pretty excited about it.

But, the last couple of times we went to the backyard to play, all of a sudden, she couldn't hit anything. Swings and misses at an alarming rate. Had she been watching the Phillies' offense lately?

Hard to say if it was something mental tied to the start of the league, or if it was just a stretch of bad days at the plate. "Whiff"le Ball.

She'll turn it around. Just to be safe, though, I've forbidden her from watching any footage of the 2008 Phillies offense.

That's good advice for anyone, really.


Wiffle Ball history




Wiffle Ball pitching grips