Well, there's no way around it. My son is definitely my kid.
I was able to watch a bit more of Milo's t-ball practice and it is clearly evident that the athletic apple hasn't fallen too far from the tree. He is enthusiastic and does pretty well following directions, though he did get a bit rowdy when the kids were standing around at the end of practice, but it was just the end and he wasn't really doing anything the other kids weren't.
He did do what was asked of him when it was asked of him. So what if he forgot that he is right handed and put the loop-and-hook mitt on his right hand, throwing the fuzzy ball crookedly with his left hand. And, I guess, so what if he decided to keep throwing left-handed when reminded that he is right-handed because he had a marginally better shot of catching with his right hand than he does with his left. I, too, am completely left hand stupid. I can type and use it to assist my fully capable right hand, but I am nowhere near passably ambidextrous.
Fielding? Well, he tried to make a fancy diving catch when he was playing first base. It amused the coaches and the other parents, but I know that he was actually just practicing a dramatic fall because Clone Troopers would dive like that to save a falling grenade from detonating on impact. I think he may have even made an explosion sound effect as he sprawled on the grass after the lazily skipping ball. Besides, he showed us not once, but twice that a ball glove works better as a flying object, particularly if it is flung from your hand as you twirl fast, arms outstretched like a helicopter rotor...
I am thrilled beyond thrilled that he had such a good time at practice. And, I suppose, maybe a little proud that my genes as the ballerina outfielder just might have found a home in him, because Violet is coordinated enough for at least three kids.