Both of my kids had a baseball game tonight. I don't understand it. The majority of their games are on Saturdays. They have have 2 weeknight games the entire season and they both have to one on the same weeknight. Luckily my husband was able to come home early enough. He took the younger one to his T-ball game. I took the older one to his baseball game. I'm the scorekeeper for his team, so I really should be there.
As the scorekeeper, I know that my son's team doesn't exactly have the best record in the league. In fact they hadn't won a single game... until tonight. They won 9-1! Ok, so maybe tonight's opposing team also hadn't won a game yet, but a win is a win!
The kids were just thrilled. And I'm happy to say that it was a team effort. This was first game that each member of my son's team hit the ball at least once. No one player struck out every time they were at bat. And that's a first!
At one point during the game, our catcher got hit in the thigh with the ball and he was crying and had to come out. The coach had to make a quick call to get someone to play catcher. My son was playing outfield so they called him to come in and play catcher. My son yelled from the outfield, "I don't want to play catcher!" And he didn't move. The coach called for him again to come in and play catcher, but my son still refused. It was another proud parent moment. The coach was staring at my son, the players were staring, the other team, the parents... (sigh) Lots of other kids raised their hands, excited to play catcher. So the coach eventually gave up and picked someone else. The other catcher just got hit with the ball. He was hurt! No way my son wanted to over that position.