World Series Champions, Maybe Next Year

Well, Brendans team's run for the Little League Championship has come to an end, and I was at a motherhood crossroad. You know, the pivotal intersection of decision. On one hand I can act like a sore loser and rant about the politics of little league baseball, on the other I can choose to advocate for my son, his team and stand up for what is just and fair. Or, as I have chosen, neither because sometimes things happen, and no matter how loudly you scream, it will be as it is - as it was.

Rewind -- Since the Midwest has been pummeled with torrential downpours on a daily basis this last week, all the teams knew that our schedules had to be flexible, that rain would fall, fields would be wet, and that games would be postponed. Our first playoff game was scheduled for Saturday. We are up 6-0, bottom of the 3rd. The winds pick up, a few drops begin to fall, then each drop within every cloud above simultaneously falls to the ground. In the confusion, the opposing team scores 4 runs. The field is too wet to continue any time today, so we are postponed until Sunday. The boys assume they will continue where they left off and are disappointed Sunday to learn that the game has to begin again. Melancholy and sadness consume all efforts to play and 7 runs are scored by the opposing team the first inning. A big pep talk by the coach and finally some finesse is seen by the 3rd inning. And the drops. start. to. fall. First 1, then 2, then a repeat of the previous game's rain out. Only this time the game is called, not postponed, not rescheduled. Called! I will spare this post from the diatribe that is running through my thoughts and will not place judgement on the events being linked to the commissioner being the coach of the other team or the ump his nephew. I will only continue to exclaim to Brendan that "you win some, you lose some, but the important thing is you keep playing like you will win them all."

So we went home, threw our clothes in on the spin cycle, and went for pizza. Later, we topped the night off with our own backyard baseball game, in which Jillian sent a ball into the neighbors yard, Brendan lost two balls to the sewer, Mark let the kids win, and I made a stealthy slide into second. Mark thought I fell, and came swooping in to save me. Teach him to doubt my athleticism, though the "damsel in distress" wasn't so far fetched either.