Baseball - Part II - Or, reliving the terror of your youth

Now that I have been a parent for a few years (okay... technically 14) I notice I look differently at how I was raised. And, I have noticed that as parents, we don't always make the right choice, sometimes we operate on auto pilot, or relive some childhood trauma, or some youthful slight, or just force our kids into doing things that we wanted to do as kids, but did not get a chance. Of course, when I type this I am not talking about myself... just OTHER parents. ha. Remember my story of Wilder joining the baseball team? Well I had a moment of slapping my brain right back 33 years and it was not a good thing.
When I was an urchin, I had a workin' professional ma. So if I did after school sports, she was not a parent on the sidelines. As a child, I was tall, gawky, skinny, with an overbite. This was in the 70's before the school curriculum on bullying. I, like every kid of my era, received bullying, nasty names, etc etc. That was just par for the course. Most of us survived, but I notice I have a very strong defense mechanism for the underdog instilled in my genes. I attribute that to being the underdog at some point, and knowing how it feels.
So Wilder's first game. As we walk up to the field, both teams on the field in their team colors, groups of parents on the sidelines, I was thrust back instantly to my childhood and the uncomfortable feeling of organized sports. I am all flipping out (inside) and Wilder runs off to join his team. He knows no one. But, after about 7 minutes, Wilder being Wilder, he knows everyone, has filled me in on who is 'mean' and who is 'cool' and is sitting on the bench surrounded by his new teammates. This kid is SO not me as a child, and I thankfully, am also so not me as a child, as I blather at all the surrounding parents.
I just walked up, into and out of a childhood fear, and came out fine with the help of a great son. So strange how those sort of things can pop up at you.