The Fat Lady Has Sung

And so it was over. We came, we played, we lost. In the end, I think we were the better team, but they had had 3 days of rest, and we had played 3 nail-biter games. It showed. The effort and desire were there, but not enough. The final score was 5-3.

There is always drama in Little League and this year was no exception. Last year, I wrote an essay for the local paper detailing our Little league experience. I waited about a month after everything was over to write it in order to regain perspective. The article came out in October, and by that time. it was easy to focus on the fact that we had had a great group of boys, a wise and wonderful head coach, and a good group of parents. I'm hoping that this year will be the same. I'm hoping that time will fade the memories of bad attitudes, embarrassing displays of disrespect...and the following silence that ensued.

The Boy was disheartened on the long car ride home last night. He had played well defensively, but his bat had been silent. He asked for the video camera (The Husband always tapes his "at bats") so he could review his game. The Husband joked that "there isn't much to see", but The Boy made me proud by responding "Well, let me see what I should have done differently". I listened to his comments, and was surprised to hear The Boy, who like his mom, will defend anyone, lash out. "I'm sick of ......." he began. "He made us look bad. He made us feel bad. I'm just sick of him." And at that moment, I too felt that way. But somewhere in my heart, I tried to remind myself that these are children...and compassion and forgiveness must always come into play. After three games of watching bats slam, helmets thrown and disrespectful words fly...there was very little sympathy to be found anywhere. A collective group of parents and players shook their head in disbelief and hung heads in shame, because it is one thing to lose, but another thing all together to play like a "loser".

But hey, as I said, bad memories tend to soften and fade. By next month, I will be able to focus on the fact that The Boy had a great season. I will remember this as the year that he learned what it takes to be a player. I will remember that he did his push ups nightly to get stronger, hit his hurricane daily to hit better, and asked The Husband to throw with him daily. I will also remember the player who broke his arm in district play, yet showed up at every practice and game to help and cheer his team on. I will remember the fact that The Husband continues to amaze me by devoting so much time and effort to helping The Boy...and other boys. I will remember getting to know one player in particular whose raw talent was amazing, but whose attitude and effort was even more impressive. And I will remember for the most part, a terrific group of parents who loved and supported their boys...

And so that does it for the week...and for baseball...at least until the fall. I am thankful, yet sad, to have no uniforms to wash. I am thankful, yet sad, to have no extra players in my house to feed and care for. I am thankful, yet sad, to have no long drive to make tonight. And I am thankful, yet sad, that a trip to the beach now looks possible...

So until next week, when we will finally be able to discuss crushes and love and flirtation at it's best...