So my buddy who was going to coach with me and who we go to church with has this son who is Blake's age and the two boys are great friends, but my buddy's son is a bit of a dare devil and so it was not too surprising when he called me with the news that his son had broken his arm falling out of a tree and would not be playing baseball this season.
So me team went from 12 to 11 and now I have no assistant coach. But God was watching out for us. When we were drafting our team (yes a draft with player evaluation and a closed door team picking session with some dads that take 8 year old coach pitch way to serious) we picked some kids based on more than their ability. We picked a really good player who we go to church with and another friend that goes to church in Trophy Club. We got lucky or were blessed to grab a kid late in the draft whose father is a praise minister at Gateway, and a few other kids that are just good boys that come from good homes. The environment of our team is really healthy.
So we went 1 and 3 in pre-season pool play and that put us in the lower league which hurts my pride but is o.k. We won our first game 14 to 6 against the Diamond Backs and tonight we faced the Twins.
First inning we are down 5 to 1. My kids are playing poor in the field and my # 1 and # 2 batters both got out. 6 to 2 in the second inning and 11 to 6 in the 3rd. We are in for a rough night. But in the bottom of the 3rd inning our bats come alive and we tie it at 11, but with a 5 run per inning run rule we are forced to go to the 5th and barely make it there with 3 minutes left on the clock. We are home and through a few acts of divine intervention and a good tag by Blake on a hard grounder hit to second we get out of the inning only giving up one run.
Bottom of the 5th and my son is up to bat, hitting in the 4 hole tonight. The other problem is that this is coach pitch and I am the pitcher. My nerves are active to say the least.
First pitch and Blake drives it into right field and as I take a knee at the pitchers mound I watch him round second and then third and before I can blink the little squirt has tied the game at 12 - 12. The next two batters are not very strong hitters and both get on base with singles. The 7 hole hitter hits a grounder to 2nd and is thrown out while both runners advance, but now we are reaching the bottom of tonight's lineup and I am worried. But I swear to you that when this goofy 8 year old, who gets confused between right and left field stepped to the plate he looked like a hitter, and tonight he was. Second pitch was line drive over 2nd and the White Sox win 14 to 12.
Shar had to miss the game for Anna's soccer practice and dog training school for Daisy which sounds lame but is very necessary. But in the place of Anna Jo and Shar was a man from our church. An elder and my mentor this year, Kurt Parsons came to watch Blake play baseball. Now I did send him a schedule but had not grade expectation that he would make a game but he did and stayed the entire game and even listened to my poor post game speech and waited to shake Blake's hand and encourage him. Having Kurt there this evening did not replace family or grandparents by any means and it was not meant to. But it does impress upon me the reality that this man has an interest in my spiritual growth as a person, husband and father and is willing to invest time in my children and family. I am grateful for The Hills Church and the leadership that is has and their desire to impact the body in real ways. I hope my son appreciates that this man took time out of his day to watch a little boy play baseball. I hope my son sees that our church family goes beyond the walls of the building.
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