Happy 4th, gents. What's more American than a baseball story?
When we last chatted, my B-level team was 2-0 in their district tournament. One win in either of the last two games guarantees us a spot in the playoffs. We could even lose both and get in, if tiebreakers fall our way.
So the long and short of it is that at this point, everything is gravy. My kids kicked ass early on. They won a tight one and won a laugher. They cheered and rooted and made the right plays. My decision to enter us into the tourney was validated.
Momentum was on our side early on. But momentum is a fickle thing, my friends. It moves in a pendulaic fashion, much like geriatric scrota. Our third game Saturday was at 2 PM in ~90 degree heat. Our ace was fully rested and we faced a team that was 0-2. But our ace was suffering from after-effects from his second vaccine shot the day before and was clearly out of sorts. He couldn't dig out a hole in front of the pitching rubber when he warmed up. Tears ensued. He hadn't even thrown the first pitch. He had no success throwing a strike to his first three batters. The tears and sweat told me he was mentally done before he ever got started. I pulled him with the bases loaded and no outs. It gutted our team. This was our big dog. And our other good pitcher slated to pitch was a last-minute scratch with an illness that passed around the school that week.
So yeah, we were toast. I had to use our subpar pitchers b/c I didn't want to waste a good arm. It ended up as an ugly 11-1 mercy loss. The other team was in desperation mode and threw their ace, who threw three pitches, at three speeds, for strikes.
We were 2-1 heading into our final game. Our opponent was also 2-1. The way the tiebreakers fell, we had to win to advance. We got out to a 6-1 lead in the 4th, using speed, power and defense to dominate. But it's a six inning game. Our starter ran out of gas and left a couple kids on. Our second pitcher struggled just enough to give them a 7-6 lead. And our opponent put in a crafty pitcher with a fantastic pickoff move. He picked off two of our better baserunners on 2nd base, once in the 5th and once in the 6th, both with two outs in a one run game and a quality hitter at the plate. The last one ended the game. Tough.
The kids teared up, understanding the run was over. It was their seventh game in nine days, and all but two were very close for most of the game. We went 5-2 in that stretch, winning our spring title game and our first summer league game (a throwaway against a terrible team).
In the days since, I've seen multiple kids wearing their Ripken t-shirts proudly. We had a party last Friday night to celebrate the spring season. An assistant set it up at his house b/c he finally wanted to be able to party with the peanut gallery in the outfield. And we surprised the kids with trophies. Hopefully they'll keep the trophies and remember a fun spring and a nice run against the big boy squads in our area. And hopefully they'll keep their focus on the summer season, where we are 3-1 and face a trio of tough opponents this week.
Posts
14 comments:
Not bad, despite the losses.
And Happy Independence Day, gheorghies, where we are all free to write, read, and laugh loudly enough at “geriatric scrota” so as to be heard in the other room.
Geriatric Scrota would be a good band name for some aging male rockers who like to let it all hang out.
Two updates for the group:
1. My old neighbor John, sadly, did not reach the summit of Kilimanjaro. He made it 41 of 43 miles but couldn’t reach the peak with his mates. The effort is still to be applauded.
2. I did reach my weight-loss goal laid out in another intrafamily wager back during the holidays. In typical fashion I waited until the last minute and took myself down from the alarming 267 to 232 over the last couple of months. I’ve been starving myself of late, and while I intend to continue the dietary discretion I have employed for a little while, today I am going to have a hot dog. And a hamburger. And a beer. Or two.
Kudos on the weight loss, Whit. That is an impressive drop.
A beer (or four) is warranted. But remember to keep it to low carb ones. And maybe skip the buns with those burgers and buns!
the real trophy is the friends they made along the way, tr. and the jerseys. definitely the jerseys. good stuff for team chatham and their skipper.
whit, do the terms of the bet require you to keep the weight off for a period of time? if so, obft comes at a particularly challenging juncture.
Right-o. I’m sick of vodka sodas for sure.
French fries have been tough to pass up. Maybe a few today. Freedom fries.
Nope, rob. I want to keep it off for my own sake but there were no clauses.
Only the penitent scrota shall pass. I would characterize mine as petulant.
Teedge!
Squeaky!
TR!
Whitney! (almost)
zman of the people
We leave on a family vacation tomorrow for a week on the beach with my folks, misters and their families. Ive spent the afternoon smoking wahoo and turning that into fish dip and smoking a while chicken for sandwiches and shit throughout the week. I’m done and it’s time for a drink or two.
just found out that a former neighbor of mine (and an absolute prince of a guy) sold the healthcare software firm he founded 15 or so years ago for $64m. Guessing his cut was around half of that. Literally couldn’t have happened to a nicer dude. Thrilled for him.
It’s ridiculous how much shit you have to pack when you’re going to live in a house on the beach for a week. Not that I’m complaining. We’ll, maybe a bit.
I thought “smoking wahoo” was a euphemism, based on Mark’s track record. Apparently, it’s not.
I was with two other families at the pool club today, after a 90-min bike ride. Drinks, steaks and apps. We were home and half in the bag by 9. Early is good.
Post a Comment