Spring has sprung and Charlie has hung up his ice skates and has picked up his baseball glove. This morning he had his first practice. A thick fog hung over the infield.

As I do with any new coach, when we arrived at the field, I mentioned that Charlie has type 1 diabetes. And yes, I make a point to say "type 1 diabetes," not just "diabetes."

I let the coach know that from time to time throughout the season, Charlie will run off the field to get his blood sugar checked. He might mention that he feels low, I added.

And soon after this first practice started, he did just that. He left the kid he was having a catch with and ran toward me.

"I think I’m low," he said, shedding his glove and sticking his finger out.

"Really?" I asked. He had just eaten a pretty big breakfast and a low would be very unlikely.

When asked if he felt low, Charlie admitted he didn’t. This was more of a worry of being low rather than a feeling of being low. Clearly, he wanted some assurance that he could just play baseball; just play without the fear of going low in the back of his mind.

This is something new.

He wasn’t anywhere near low.

Playing second base, I watched him crouch down into "ready position" and adjust his pump which bulged from under his shirt. I wish he didn’t have to wear a pump. I wish he didn’t have diabetes.

Batting for the first time with his new team, I watched Charlie bounce and swagger at the plate, his eyes glued on the pitcher’s release.

Let’s show these coaches what a kid with diabetes can do.

The ball floated toward him and ...

SMACK!!!!!