"Why am I so bad at this?" the little Koopa pouted out of irritation. "Why can't I be as good as them?"
Bowser Jr. threw the heavy bat he had been holding onto the ground beside him, feeling like it was about to give up and face facts. He came out here not too long ago to working on his swing, hoping to get better at it in preparation for the Home Run Contest that was going to be taking place in a few days.
After not doing so good at the one that was held last month, he wanted to practice and practice until his swing was as good as the Smashers that placed better than him. Even though he continued to do so, however, he didn't seem to be getting any better. He practiced simply by using the light sandbags in the training area, which were lighter by a long shot compared to the normal sandbag but still were good to use, but he could only send those a short distance away from him each time.
This, consequentially, led to him becoming frustrated. Just what was it that they were doing differently that was making them launch the sandbag a greater distance than he did?
Maybe I'm just no good at this, he thought with sadness.
Bowser Jr. sat on the ground and folded his arms, letting out a sigh with a sulky expression across his face. While he was still in this mood that was opposite of his typically cheerful one, he heard large footsteps stomping over to where he had been sitting.
He unburied his eyes from underneath his arms and peered his head over to the side, seeing that it was his father that was walking his way. His father stopped and looked over at him, beginning to wonder what was getting him so down in the dumps.
"Junior," Bowser said with concern. "What's wrong?"
His son simply sighed and turned his head away from him. "Nothin'," he mumbled.
"Tell me the truth, son. I can tell that something's got you upset right now."
"I… I can't swing a bat at all," Bowser Jr. replied unhappily.
Bowser plopped down on the ground beside his son and looked over at him, patting him on the back. "That's not true," he responded sympathetically. "You have a terrific swing."
"No, I don't!" Bowser Jr. whined, his father's words not making him feel any better at the moment. "All of the other guys can launch that sandbag so much farther than me. How come I'm so crappy at that?"
"Hey, there's no need for language like that, son," his father replied.
"Sorry," the young Koopa apologized. "I just wish that I could do what they can do but, like, twice as far."
"You know, I was just like you when I was your age," Bowser said to his son. "I always strived to do whatever the next Koopa Troopa was doin' twofold."
"But how come you can do the sandbag thing so much better than I can?" Bowser Jr. inquired. "You're perfect at it."
After a brief pause, his father answered, "Nobody's perfect. And if ya wanna know the truth, there was actually a time where I didn't always do so well at the Home Run Contests."
"Really?"
"To tell ya the truth, the first one I ever participated in was a nightmare. I didn't even send the sandbag a few yards from the platform, and because of that I was the laughing stock of that moment." Bowser actually started to chuckle at his own disappointing performance from back then, having a good sense of humor about it now despite it being embarrassing back then. "But since then I stepped up my game, and I even got my own formula for preparing myself for the event when it comes around."
"What's that, Papa?"
"Well, the first thing is to do what I've always told you. When you wanna get better at something…"
"You practice and practice and practice," his son responded with a slight eye roll, having heard that statement from his father a boatload of times before. "I know."
"But that's not even what makes my special formula so unique," Bowser continued. "Anybody can tell you to practice and preach about that 'til the cows come home. But only I have the knowledge of a special technique."
"Technique?" Bowser Jr. asked with eagerness, wanting to know more about what he was telling him about.
"It's something special that I like to do before it's my turn, and I like to call it my secret weapon."
Bowser Jr. started to jump up and down with a sense of excitement. "Tell me, tell me!"
His father chuckled and said, "I'd be more than happy to, son." He walked over to the nearby equipment rack, grabbing a baseball bat and another practice sandbag from there before returning to where he stood before. "The first thing you have to do is get yourself in the proper mindset. You know how that's done?"
The little Koopa shook his head. "Uh-uh."
"First things first, you have to take a deep breath and then let it all out. Like this…" Bowser inhaled deeply, held that breath for a very brief moment, and then exhaled just as heavily. "Now you do it."
Bowser Jr. mimicked the very same thing that he did, looking over at him curiously after he did so.
"Very good," Bowser complimented. "The next step is to close your eyes and focus. Focus on how you're gonna hit that sandbag and sending it far into the distance."
He did exactly as he was told, following his father's instructions and closing his eyes. He started focus really, really hard on that image of him launching the sandbag further than the others that were in the Home Run Contest. "I'm imagining it," he remarked with a smile growing on his face. "I can see it in my mind, flying high into the sky."
Bowser happily chuckled and said, "Now is the fun part. What I do right before I go to swing is take a few steps back."
Bowser Jr. slowly stepped backwards towards his father. "Now what?"
His father replied, "The next thing to do is spin in a circle. Only do that once, though. You don't wanna make yourself dizzy. Follow my movements."
He watched his dad as he set his bat on the ground and held it like it was a walking stick, proceeding to spin in one short and slow circle. He did exactly what he saw him doing, giggling at the antic as he did this.
"Excellent!" Bowser lifted his bat like he was anticipating the pitch of a baseball. "Now hold your bat up like I am and twirl it like so. And when you're ready, all you gotta do is run up to the sandbag and give it your best swing."
Bowser Jr. did his best to hold the heavy bat above him, focusing seriously as he could. He gave the bat the smallest wiggle as he gripped onto, running swiftly up to the sandbag that was a short distance away. As soon as he was directly in front of it, he swung the bat with all of his might.
The sandbag flew into the air and out into the distance. The father and son watched from where they were standing as the object became nothing more than a faraway shape that was gradually becoming less visible.
Bowser Jr. remained in a state of surprise at his accomplishment. "I did it, Papa!" he exclaimed joyously, his optimism returning once again. "Did you just see that?"
"I sure did," his father answered proudly. Pointing into the distance, he added, "Look! I think it's still going."
The young Koopa was now happier than ever, turning around to his dad and giving him the strongest hug he could. "Thanks, Papa."
Bowser smiled back at his son and nodding his head. He then started to hatch a little idea a few seconds later. "Hey, Son, why don't we some more practicing together? You think you can launch one of those other sandbags over there further than your father?"
His son started to laugh with a sense of eagerness. "Let's do it!" he remarked in reply.
"Alrighty then," Bowser responded, heading over to grab them two of the practicing sandbags and setting out a few feet apart from one another. He walked back over to Junior and said to him, "Now, do exactly what I just showed you."
Alongside his father, Junior did the technique that he had just been shown. Father and son took a deep breath and let it out, then set their bats down to the ground and spun in one short circle. They assumed the traditional batting stance and wiggled the bats in their grasp a bit, then they proceeded to run up to the sandbags together. The smiles on both father and son gradually grew wider as the fun continued.
"Swing, batter, batter, batter," Bowser Jr. said aloud as he approached the sandbag.
His father launched the sandbag that was on his side a quick instant after he did. The two then watched as the objects flew into the cerulean-colored sky, observing carefully to see which one was the one that went the greater distance.
"I don't know, Junior," Bowser said. "I think you might've beat me this time."
"Maybe by a couple inches," Junior replied playfully.
"Yep, we were both pretty close."
"I couldn't have gotten better without your special technique, Papa. I'll be sure to remember what you taught me when the contest comes."
"Glad I could help," Bowser replied with a smile.
Author's Note: Hey there, readers! I recently felt like something that I thought would put a smile on somebody's face, and so I started to come up with this little story. I also really wanted to write something that was centered around Bowser and his son, so I thought this would be a good concept that I could use to try writing those characters.
Anyway, let me know what your thoughts were on this story of mine. Your feedback, whether good or bad, is always gladly appreciated, and I do hope that you stick around for some more stories about the Smashers.
'Til next time! :)