I think we have two games left in our Minor 9 season, and I will be glad when it is all over with because it is going to kill me. I've been a good baseball mommy. I learned what an in-field fly rule is (that is one messed up rule). I have not screamed obscenities at any children (unlike the mommy from our Sunday game). I have attended every single game, snowing (yes), raining (oh yes), or sweltering. Last season I just remember the weather. This season I remember the weather and the STRESS.
For the first time ever, William is on a winning team. Like a seriously freakingly good team (we have Uber coach, remember?--by the way, turns out we LOVE HIM). We're 9-1 this season (our first loss was yesterday when I don't know what happened but suddenly we went from pitching and batting machines to crazy ants running around like someone kicked our nest). If we beat at least one of the next two teams, we win the league championship. OMG. I might explode. (The next two teams are 2-7 and 2-8, so please please please don't screw this one up).
William has gotten TWO game balls this season. One came yesterday when he got a double, some boys came in to score, tagged someone out on third base, lots of things like RBIs (no clue). His coach from last year was on the opposing team. He told me later he always knew William had potential. But only I know the secret ingredient to making William a star: Slushies. All our coach had to do was tell William if he hit the ball, he'd buy him a Slushie.
|Turned out they were out of Slushies|
And like any 9 year old motivate purely by the promise of sugary SNACKS, my baby performed!