Little League World Series

Jack's travel baseball team is playing Little League World Series games. At his age level (10) they won't actually advance to the World Series, but by winning enough games they could win the District we represent, in Eastern New York. For us it means he gets to wear an official Little League World Series patch on one sleeve, there are a number of rules and restrictions (most notably for me, a limited number of coaches in the dugout, so I'm in the stands like the common folk!), and there's a lot more intensity at the field and from the coaches, who really want to win these games.

(After the game Jack told me at one point he sat down next to another coach, bending over the scorebook I normally keep, and kind of leaned against him, thinking it was me. The coach looked at him, Jack looked over, said, "Uh, Oh." And straightened up in embarrassment. I mentioned it to the coach afterward, and he laughed and said, tell him not to worry. We all need to adjust to these Little League World Series differences.)

Our first game was at 5:45 last night, at home, and the coach said to be there by 5 p.m. Which he later amended to 4:45 p.m.! After telling kids to get plenty of rest and not eat a lot of sugar or spend the day outside in the sun and whatnot. Jack and I went outside for about a half hour to practice hitting, and I told him to always be alert, hustle, and try to make a play on any ball near him -- work hard, trust your backups, hustle. Do your best out there, and I'll be proud of you no matter what.

Watching from the stands, it was clear things were a little different. Kids were hustling a little more during warmups. I saw Jack backing up throws to first from right field in pre-game drills, jogging back to his spot. Making a catch, throwing it in, jogging off. Maybe it was the same as always, maybe just I thought it was different.

Game started, and Jack was the starting right fielder. Right off the bat a hard ground single went to him. He fielded it cleanly and threw a strike to first; almost got the out. If he'd charged it, probably would have; personally I was just glad he fielded it quickly, cleanly, and made a strong, accurate throw (sometimes you won't even see kids try to get that out, or they'll throw wildly). Guy didn't score, no one did the first two innings. Best part was after that play, we heard the opposing coach tell his players, "Make sure you hustle to first, 'cause their right fielder can throw you out!" Yeah, that's right!

Jack led off the third, drew a walk, went to third on a hit to right center. Nice slide, ended up scoring on a hit to center. Rally starter! Next at bat, he hit a line drive to first; out. But the ball was well hit and I know he was pleased (and told me so afterward). We won, 12-2.

After the game, it was all smiles, from a tired but happy looking Jack and the various coaches, parents, and players. That's what you play for; winning games like that. It was a beautiful, perfect night for baseball, the field was great, team played well, and we won.

I told Jack I was proud of him. Said it was great to see his hustle, his backup, his readiness to play. He nodded; think he knew he'd done well. We piled into the car, went to get some food. Tired and happy.

We play again Sunday. More pressure, more intensity. You know eventually things won't go your way, so you have to savor the moments when they do.

Champions

Jack's baseball team won a championship last night. This is different from the highly competitive travel team he plays on; this is the local recreation league baseball team for his age group. He's been playing in it since he was 6 years old (Tee Ball), then 7-8 (Rookie League, which Kate is in now), and now 9-10 (Minors). The travel kids play in it, but so too do all the kids who will stop playing baseball at 12, or 10, or younger.

At Tee Ball and Rookie, they don't even keep score (well, not officially; apparently some of the kids keep score in their heads and fill everyone else in after each half inning ("We're up 7-5!"), which is kind of amusing. And Jack's first Minors team last year was one of the league's worst teams, routinely losing (I think we finished up at 3-9 or something) and sometimes failing to even score.

But these things go around as the better (often older) kids move up a level and the younger kids get better, and it was clear that this year Jack's team was going to be one of the best. And it was, and we started out winning all the time, endured a late-season slump where we weren't hitting and lost 3 of 4, occasionally in excruciating fashion, and then turned it back on late. We had a rare, in-season practice right before the playoffs started, and that's what I'll point to as the main reason. There were some fun in-team competitions and a chance to bat and field without consequence or pressure (unlike a game), and I think it really loosened the kids and maybe the coaches up.

I spent much of last week being nervous about our first playoff game, but that practice helped. And we won our first game 9-1, won our second game just 15 hours later 8-2 (over the No. 1 seed), and then really walloped last night's opponent for the championship. Each of the three teams had beaten us in our previous encounter, so call it a Revenge Tour; it fits.

Jack had been in a bit of hitting slump; getting hits and getting on base, but not hitting it with as much authority as he had earlier in the season and even through the last travel tournament. Might have slipped into a bad habit, I don't know. We practiced some in the backyard before yesterday's game and seemed to get it sorted out, but he's not quite there yet. One good hit and a couple of soft ones, one of which a play should have been made on. But he caught a couple of popups and threw a runner out at the plate in the final inning from first base, and capped off an overall strong season and Minors career as a champion. And I'm proud to say our efforts to get him and all the kids to show class in victory (a worry when you're winning big) resonated, or seemed to; kids lined up, smiling, to say good game, then ran to the outfield throwing their caps in the air in happiness.

I stood there in front of the team looking at their happy faces, glanced out to clapping parents, shook hands and hugged the other coaches. It's not the World Series, but it's the top of this level of baseball (kids on our team were saying "worst to first!") and for many if not most of these kids it might be the only sports championship they'll win. We posed for a picture for the local paper and then danced off into history. Well, 2015 Port Chester Minors Division history!

I'd like to remember a lot of things about it. This little kid Nick catching the last out. This girl Dulcinea who missed two weeks with a sore knee, coinciding with our skid, then returning for our playoff march. The kids who were thrilled when they got to catch, or play first base, or get 2-out hits to start or finish rallies. The Mom that made cupcakes before our biggest regular-season win and the championship game -- "victory cupcakes," she called them. Her saving a last cupcake for me, which I was about to get when Kate appeared at my side. "Can I have that cupcake?" Sigh. Yes, Kate, OK.

After the game there was a lot of handshakes and congratulations and pictures and Jack and the team being happy. That's mostly what I want to remember. Next year Jack will be off to Majors and there might not be much winning (or maybe; you just never know).

Got a text from the head coach, a jovial, very experienced coach who's been leading baseball and football teams for 20 years or whatever, whose kids were on Jack's and Kate's teams as well. He thanked me for being a great assistant and helping all year long. Nice note.

I thanked him back, but how do you really thank someone who helps your kids become better athletes, better players, better teammates, better kids? I guess you just say thank you, and try not to forget. Try not to forget the practices, not the games, not the coaching, and not the smiles.

Not a baseball weekend

Over Memorial Day we had a baseball weekend. Jack's baseball team went to a tournament in Basking Ridge, New Jersey, one that we won 2 years ago, and went 5-0 and won a championship again. Jack had a 3-for-3 game and 5 hits in a row at one point, my score keeping proved critical in the title game (ok no just kidding about that part), and we had a great time talking and relaxing with friends while Jack ran around with teammates, Kate ran around with their siblings, and we brought home a cool trophy.

From March, when practices begin for the baseball league, through early August, when the summer season ends, we are kind of all baseball, all the time. Both kids have spring teams, with a combined 4-5 games per week, and Jack starts his travel team practices in May, so it's kind of all-consuming.

But one weekend in June, this weekend, the league hosts a high school baseball tournament. No games or practices for Jack or Kate's age groups. We were going to go camping, but it was a deadline weekend for me, so we couldn't get away.

So we went smaller. Planned a nice Sunday morning hike, figured we would take in a high school game on Saturday.

We did some yard work Saturday morning. Then Jack and I went to see a game. Mostly, though, he ran around playing whiffle ball with his friends, and I supported the league at the concessions stand. I am not sure he watched any of the games. After a couple hours, we went home.

Then he and Kate got in an argument about something, and we separated them. I pitched to Kate in the backyard (wait, I thought this was not a baseball weekend?), Emily went for a walk with Jack and Riley. When they came back, Jack had been collected by a group of friends, an evening that would involve chicken wings, ice cream, and a sleepover.

Kate never minds when she has our full attention. She set up the cushions on chairs on the back deck and we ate out there. We had corn on the cob, her favorite; she had 3 ears. Three! Followed by dessert, and then reading an old, childhood classic together, the three of us. Harold and the Purple Crayon. She read it to us, sitting between us; I think she let me read a couple of pages. Then bedtime.

The next morning I collected Jack from his sleepover, which apparently involved about 4 hours of actual sleep. He was a little out of it, and somewhat chagrined to find out we were going on a hike. But to his credit he didn't squawk too much, and we headed off to Bear Mountain, about a 45-minute drive.

Even as we were driving there, I thought, this is the kind of thing we don't do enough, and our main reason/excuse is baseball. So many weekend games and practices, we don't take the time for a family morning out.

We arrived, and Riley promptly slipped her collar and got away. Happily, after 5 minutes of chasing/calling, we re-captured her.

Beautiful day. Kate in high spirits, singing songs and leading the way. Riley sniffing and pulling excitedly. Jack fairly quiet, but interested in the cool views and rocks to climb. (Not as much as Kate: "LOOK, Jack, another big rock!") He was a little bit alseep, but kept his footing and his cool.

We climbed up a tower, scaled some rocks, followed the path. Stopped every few minutes for water, crackers, Skittles.

Jack slept in the car on the way home, and for a couple of hours that afternoon. Kate continued in her cheerful mood, having enjoyed the hike, the company, the television afterward as Emily and I exhaustedly let her relax while we unwound.

Dinner was chicken fingers, macaroni and cheese, talking about stuff we had seen and done. Not hits, wins, and losses.

Baseball will dominate our summer again. It's fun for Jack, fun and entertaining for us, mostly enjoyable for Kate. But I like to think there will be other parts to the summer. Hikes, day trips, occasional days where the bat and glove stay in the bags and we entertain ourselves with the rest the world has to offer. Because there is so much of it.