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Little League Angst

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Estimated read time: 2-3 minutes

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Yeah, I did it. Last night at my son's little-league baseball game, I went to the score table to remind them they hadn't counted a run yet. I felt kind of silly at first, but really silly later that inning when the other team scored 11 runs.

Ah, Little League. Until now it's been t-ball and coach pitch, where they didn't keep score. It was all about fun. Now I have to remind myself it's still about fun. Problem is, the boy is a baseball nut. His mom and aunts painted his room last year in Boston Red Sox colors. He shadow pitches and shadow bats when he's fidgety. His dream is to play in the big leagues.

Don't know how he got so big on baseball. Maybe it's because he was born during the 1997 World Series. I'm more of a football fan myself, at least I was.

Now I find myself newly immersed in the sport and learning things I never knew from my 9-year old -- things like the difference between a four-seam fastball and a two-seam fastball. His contagious enthusiasm admittedly has me a bit more anxious when he steps to the plate or on the field at Little League. Afterall, there could be scout in the audience. So in the interest of aspiring athlete's parents everywhere, I'll take advantage of this blog to make a pledge.

1. I promise I won't throw anything on the field, unless all the players and the umpire are wearing appropriate eye protection.

2. I promise to let the score keepers keep score, unless of course they're wrong.

3. I promise not to yell "Hey batter, batter Swing!" from the grandstands unless I know it will rattle the opposing player.

4. I promise to buy lots of snow cones that turn into ice on top and highly concentrated cold-fusion like syrup on the bottom that saturates the cup, drips out and runs down the arm.

5. I promise my children will have fond memories of little league, not haunting images of someone they know being led away in handcuffs.


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Marc Giauque


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