You see them at every high school (and sometimes college) ballfield. In cold weather climes they are bundled up in parkas, blankets, quilts, wool hats, mittens, and whatever else they can find to keep them warm, sitting in their camp chairs either alone or maybe in pairs, steeling themselves against March and early April winds that cut through all their layers like a knife.

In warmer climes they might have rain ponchos or even makeshift shelters to protect them against the showers that can crop up out of nowhere and drench them in a matter of minutes if they’re not prepared.

They do all of this without the assurance of a reward for their efforts. Because these aren’t the parents of the starters or regular players.

No, they’re the parents who show up game after game, putting up with the elements and the difficult conditions, hoping against hope they will get a chance to see their daughters get into the game for an inning or two.

I remember watching them when my daughters were playing high school softball. When I was at a game, no matter how cold or wet it was, I knew I would get the opportunity to see my daughters play the game they loved.

I could count on seeing them pitch, hit, play the field in just about every inning.

But then I would look at these parents and admire their fortitude. They had no such assurances their daughters would get into the game.

They could go days or weeks at a time and never see their daughters so much as pinch run. Their only real hope of seeing their daughters on the field was for their to be a blowout, i.e., their daughter’s team getting either so far ahead or so far behind that the coach would take the starters out and give an inning or two to the bench players.

But you know what? They showed up anyway, game after game, braving the cold, the wind, the occasional rain or even sleet, cheering for the team and just being there supporting their own daughters.

That, my friends, is love.

While honestly I was glad I wasn’t one of them, and even felt a little bad for them in a way, I also couldn’t help but be impressed by their dedication and their quality of character. It would have been easy for them to figure there’s not much point in going, especially when the team was playing against a close conference rival where one run might be the difference between winning and losing.

They could have easily thought, “She’s never going to get in so I might as well use the time more productively.” But they didn’t.

Instead, they showed up before the game started and hung around until the end, supporting their daughters in their sport of choice.

So here’s to all of you who make that choice and sit through all the weather and other challenges just on the off-chance your daughter gets an opportunity to play, even if just for an inning. You are good people, and your dedication hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Dress warm (if needed), keep dry, and I hope your patience is rewarded sooner rather than later.

My good friend Jay Bolden and I have started a new podcast called “From the Coach’s Mouth” where we interview coaches from all areas and levels of fastpitch softball as well as others who may not be fastpitch people but have lots of interesting ideas to contribute.

You can find it here on Spotify, as well as on Apple Podcasts, Pandora, Stitcher, iHeart Radio, or wherever you get your podcasts. If you’re searching, be sure to put the name in quotes, i.e., “From the Coach’s Mouth” so it goes directly to it.

Give it a listen and let us know what you think. And be sure to hit the Like button and subscribe to Life in the Fastpitch Lane for more content like this.

Top photo by Yakup Polat on Pexels.com