Father Still Traumatized His Son Can’t Throw A Baseball

While families across Cascadia celebrated Memorial Day weekend with outdoor barbecues and weekend excursions, one white suburban father was once again reminded of the trauma he feels knowing his son can’t throw a baseball.

Logan Miller of Lake Oswego discovered four years ago that when his son Hunter tried out for the local tee ball league he was incapable of properly throwing a baseball. Initially attributing the lack of skill to inexperience, Miller practiced playing catch with his son in the backyard for the duration of the summer.

Now, at the age of nine, Hunter has still yet to learn how to throw a baseball.

Miller was forced to give up teaching his son how to throw a baseball two years ago when, toward the end of the summer, he suffered a major panic attack induced by trauma. Since the incident, Miller has been unable to play catch with his son knowing his lack of basic throwing skills still exist.

“Times like Memorial Day weekend, when every father and son in our gated neighborhood is playing catch with one another, are the toughest,” stated Miller. “My wife says Hunter hasn’t improved at all on his own over the past two years. We’ve taken him to doctors multiple times over the years and none have been able to discover what’s causing him to suck so much. It’s tough to intermingle with other fathers at the rotary club knowing that my son is inherently inferior to theirs. I wish I knew what to do to take this pain away.”

Miller says he’s given his son all of the tools he could need in order to learn how to properly throw a ball. He stated he’s given his son numerous pats on the back over the years for showing good effort and has given him season tickets to the Hillsboro Hops for his birthday the past two years. Miller even offered to give his son a firm hug once we was able to successfully throw a baseball to him from ten feet away.

“I just want what’s best for my son. I want him to fit in with the rest of the kids at the Montessori school. I want his life to have no hardships. Imagine the discrimination he might face if an admissions officer at Reed catches wind that Hunter can’t throw a baseball. It’d sink his application, I reckon. I don’t want that to happen. Yet the trauma I’ve felt over the past two years has prevented me from doing little to nothing to help my son learn to throw a baseball. I just want this nightmare to end.”