Tales from the Dugout: Enjoying the Final Ride (Part 3)

And like a puff of smoke, it is gone. 

I am now 1,800 miles from my former town, having landed safely in a suburb of Denver. My 11 y/o son is now 180 miles from his former town, starting his second and last week of sleepaway camp in Massachusetts. But we were hot and heavy into our summer travel season not that long ago. Allow me to update you. 

When we last chatted, my team was 3-1 in its summer league. We had a let-down loss to our big rival (the team we whooped in our spring league final) early in the summer season. I decided not to put the foot on the gas that game. The kids were spent after many high-stress games. But besides (and after) that game, we were the Big Pun of our league, crushing a lot. A LOT. We finished our summer regular season 10-1. In our ten wins, we outscored our opponents by a combined score of 138-55. And we weren't being mercenaries. I flipped our lineup against weaker teams, every kid pitched at least once and we moved kids around in the field. 

We won a share of our regular season title, which meant a t-shirt. But I wanted gold from a playoff title. And I wanted a front-loaded playoff schedule b/c my kid and I were leaving town. That meant a quick first-round playoff game. We tried to avoid using our strong pitchers. We were tied 3-3 after one inning. I put my kid in to pitch in the second. He throws strikes, but does not throw hard. It was his second time pitching that season. He managed to go five innings. He threw 4/4/8 pitches in the 4th/5th/6th innings. Great stuff and a 15-5 win for us. 

That win sent us to the semis on Thurs 7/22. I knew the semis would be my kid's last game, b/c of sleepaway camp. He was devastated. He became close friends with many teammates, and realized he would likely never see most of them again. Tough. 

My team came to play that day, despite only having nine kids available. We laid the smack down in a 14-2 win. I had visions of subbing out my kid with two outs in the last inning, allowing him to jog off while parents cheered. But with nine kids, that was not an option. The game ended, my kids started celebrating and I hugged my son in the infield (we were the away team, so we played D while the home team got their last licks). He looked at me and asked if that was his last game with his team. I sadly told him it was. And he started crying. And it got dusty for Dad as well. He helped take us to the finals, but would not be there to help us win it. An assistant snapped this shot, which shows off the Ripken patch that means so much to the kids. 

So yeah, it's been tough. I helped schedule the summer league championship game I couldn't attend. The opponent was our rival, the team we whooped in the spring final, but lost to in the summer league. They pushed the game date back to make sure their ace was rested, which confirmed I couldn't coach, even without my kid there. On Wednesday night, while my wife and I were struggling through Indiana traffic on our way to a South Bend hotel, she loaded the game on an app, and we followed it pitch-by-pitch, real time. Technology is neat. 

The assistant running the show that night followed my instructions with pitching and the lineup. My kids were tied 2-2 after four innings, but pulled it out at the end, winning 5-2. That means one more trophy for my kid, which I hope eases the pain of losing friends. At the end of the day, I just hope this experience builds his confidence and skills and allows him to make some new friends in a new state. It's a gut-punch to me to realize my baseball coaching might be over (after a 27-6 season across all competition), but it could not have ended better. And my son and I will have stories from an epic bonding experience we can share the rest of our lives. 

Tales from the Dugout: Enjoying the Final Ride (Part 2)

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.