The Way It Should Be

JAMIE AND BECKY CRIPPS, KALAMAZOO, MICH.

Mallory is afraid of snakes, and failure, and lightning, and the high wind that used to slice through the gorge and rattle her bedroom window while she was sleeping in the dead of night.

"Dad," she would say, wandering into her parents' room, "I think someone's outside my window. You have to go look."

And Greg Holtman (volunteer fireman, home builder, former timber cutter) always got up, stumbled to the door, did a token search of the perimeter and came back, telling his daughter, "No one's out there. Go to bed." This made Mallory feel better, but sometimes, for additional security, when she was as old as 16, she crawled into the queen-sized bed between her mother and father and flopped around till morning.

For Mallory's 16th birthday, Greg installed a batting cage with a pitching machine in the backyard. Her mother, Christy, a first-grade teacher for 30 years, sat in a lawn chair and provided running commentary while Mallory worked on her swing. She even announced what the imaginary fielders might have done: "Oh, good catch. Robbed ya."

Mallory had a softball scholarship offer from Canisius, a Division I college in upstate New York, but she chose Central Washington so she could play for Gary Frederick and so her parents could see her play. In her four full seasons they missed fewer than five games. One day Greg drove 350 miles to Nampa, Idaho, through two snowstorms, over two mountain passes, and drove home that night. Mallory's sister knows nothing about sports, but she attended the games too and cried for joy at every home run.

Even when Mallory struck out, Christy found a way to make her feel good. "Your hair looks nice," she would say, or, "Honey, you look really great in your pants today," or, when the Wildcats lost, "There's worse things than losing," and then they all went out for some red meat.

Now that Mallory is famous, people walk up to Christy and say, "You must be so proud of her."

This is how Christy replies: "We've always been proud of her."

I coach a team of 11--12 year old boys here in Pampa, Texas and we recently had an 11 year old young man hit his first homerun in the bottom of the last inning to draw our team within 2 runs. However, in his exuberance, he evidently missed 1st base or barely touched it. After he touched home and while our other kids were congratulating him, the other coach protested that he missed 1st base and the home plate umpire agreed and he was called out.