Josh was able to make McKay's baseball game tonight, arriving about halfway through. McKay, seeing his father pull up, eagerly ran over from the dugout for a high-five and a hello.
Josh says, "Hey, Mack, what's the score?"
McKay: "I think it's tied or something. We're doing just AWESOME."
McKay then runs back to the dugout and rejoins his team.
Josh turns to me, "So, what's the score?"
Me: "The score is 7 to 1. We're 1."
Because it's not about whether you win or lose.
It's about goofing off in the dugout with a bunch of squirley boys your age, adjusting your new cup every ten seconds because it's JUST! SO! UNCOMFORTABLE!, and diving like mad when you're up to bat (after all, it is kid pitch this year, and yes, he's already been hit).
2 comments:
Ah, the Little League years. I thought they'd never end (the games and the years.) And now we daydream about how fun it all was. We've thought of stopping at a park and watching just for old time's sake.
I only played one year of softball, and my brothers didn't make it pass t-ball... but as far as I'm concerned, the best part of playing baseball was always the snack shack. After every game we got "tokens" to go get goodies. The snack shack always had the greatest candy, ice cream and sodas. I remember negotiating with my team mates so that we could get a little of everything... you get that, and I'll get this. hmmm... maybe I'll have to go watch a little league game, and patronize the snack shack
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