It was like this.
See, a dozen and a bit years ago, Adam and Aimee Dobb, from up Newcastle way, were a little divided over whether or not to have a third child. Adam reckoned as they already had a fine eight-year-old son and a wonderful three-year-old daughter, maybe that was enough? Aimee wanted a third.
In the end Adam won, and went off to see the vasectomy surgeon for a consultation. But just as there is many a slip ’tween cup and lip, so too between yup and snip.
For in the time between the consultation and the operation, the couple continued their normal rhythm of life, and just a few weeks later Aimee began to experience that familiar wan feeling, and investigated.
“Adam,” says she joyfully, “I think I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a scan.”
And she was! So she won, after all.
“I’ll put a play on from the dugout and Fletcher, who’s my catcher, just says, ‘No, Dad, we’re not doing that’. And he’s usually right.”
Baseball coach Adam Dodd
But wait, there’s more. For at the 12- week scan, came the news.
“The gyno says it’s twins . . .”
Winner, winner, chicken dinner!
But wait, there’s still more.
At 16 weeks, another scan. They’d got it wrong. They were going to be the parents of triplets.
“Look, please no more scans,” croaks Adam. “Every time we have to scan, the bloody thing splits again!”
Life can certainly throw some curveballs at you – one egg, split three ways, was the most unheard of thing anyone had ever heard of – but still the Dobbs had seen nothing yet. For some 12 years later, those naturally conceived identical triplets are going to take their place on the world stage, with their father, and therein, too, lies a story.
For once the boys arrived, Adam, despite having gone back to the vasectomy surgeon and telling him, “This time, don’t just tie knots in it, cut it off at the hip!“, conceded he was the luckiest man alive. A mathematical friend said the chances of naturally conceiving identical triplets were like winning five Lottos straight, to begin with. But as beautiful as these three? Off the charts, five times over!
Still, what to do with such bounding boy-boy-boy energy, now that the lads were growing and they had moved to Sydney?
Well, as well as his main job of running a construction company, it just so happened Adam was also the owner of this town’s only professional baseball team, the Sydney Blue Sox. So the answer was obvious.
Would you like to play baseball, boys, for our local Hills Baseball Association team?
All three boys, Spencer, Fletcher and Hudson, would!
Soon enough Adam was their coach, which is where all the bases were loaded for the story to truly take off. Because neither Adam nor his boys could help but notice one thing: they kept winning.
And winning, and winning some more.
They won so much that in March the Hills Baseball Association not only earnt the right to represent NSW in the National under-12 Championships but, with Spencer Dobb pitching, and Fletcher and Hudson in the infield, won it last weekend, defeating Perth’s Central Firebirds in the Gold Medal game at Blacktown International Sports Park.
This, in turn, earnt the Hills Little League team the right to be Australia’s representatives in the Little League World Series Baseball tournament! Founded in 1947, the event is held in Williamsport, Pennsylvania and involves 10 teams from the US competing against 10 teams from around the world, including the Asia-Pacific Region, Canada, the Caribbean, Cuba, Europe-Africa Region, Japan, Latin America and Mexico.
Their first game is against Chinese Taipei, in six weeks’ time, as they move into the round robin. No fewer than 45,000 spectators are expected for the final on August 24.
As fine as the triplets are, however, whichever one of them is the best might have to argue the toss as to who the best player on the team, with the outfielder/pitcher.
Her name is Emma Gainsford, and while in 75 years there have only been 22 females play in the tournament, she will be the 23rd one, and the first Australian.
As to what makes his own boys so good, Dobb is in no doubt.
“The three of them are the most competitive little buggers I’ve ever met and they compete to be better than each other every single minute of every day. They just keep pushing each other, and it keeps making all of them better.”
Any signs of telepathy between them, coach, like we used to say of the Ella brothers?
“I wish!” he says ruefully. “No, they’re not big on unspoken communications. But very big on spoken, and sometimes shouted, ones. Sometimes they go at each other on the field, and it can be embarrassing.”
So, you tell them not to fight?
“Look, they’re best mates but they’re just so competitive. And they’re creative; they’ll do their own things. I’ll put a play on from the dugout as the coach, and Fletcher, who’s my catcher, just says, ‘No, dad, we’re not doing that’. And he’s usually right.”
Watch out world, here they come.
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