Today I was going to continue discussing my wedding, arguably the most important day of my life so far. However, at the insistence of a number of baseball moms I need to devote today's entry to the continuing saga of the Concord/Carlisle little leaguers. And people, you do not want to piss off the baseball moms. Trust me.
I've been hitting the games like they were a kitten who wouldn't behave (kidding, sweetheart) this week, so here are some highlights:
- Kris Ann bought me Mexican food two nights in a row. For someone who loves tacos and burritos and doesn't terribly mind going to the bathroom it was like a gift from some tortilla-filled Mexican heaven.
- There was further movement in the efforts of the girls to save dogs and Honduras. Specifically, I showed up the game on Tuesday and there was no lanyard making going on.
Me: Gracie, what's going on? Where are the lanyards? Grace: (blank stare) Me: The lanyards, so dogs get homes and Hondurans get....something. Grace: We don't do that anymore. Me: Why? Grace: (shrug)
President Bush, if you're reading, I think I found you the next leader of the Red Cross.
- I had to pee so badly at one of the games that I thought my bladder might explode, carrying everyone away on a river of partially digested Diet Coke. Thank god the former charity girls hadn't completely lost their spirit of helping. At this game they turned their generous natures to the assistance of people who had to go to the hard to find bathroom. I dubbed them the Pee Pee Patrol (other name options were the Tinkle Troop and the Wee Wee Brigade).
And so, imagine me walking across a playground holding hands with two girls under ten, with two more pulling at my shirt, all yelling "Come on, you can pee over here! We know where to go! We'll help you!" Honestly, I feel like even typing that sentence should get me three years in jail.
- As thanks, I bought each member of the Pee Pee Patrol a Giant Pixie Stick, thus ruining a number of dinners and cementing my reputation as a bad influence. Of course, I love Pixie Stix and somehow forgot to get myself one.
Me: Allie, can I have some of that? Allie: (scowling) No. Me: But I bought it.... Allie: So? Me (thought but not said): Fine. I wouldn't eat anything from your hands anyway, seeing as how covered in the blood of dogs and Hondurans they are.
- All the games were played next to parking lots. I can't even describe how much I was rooting for a broken windshield. Of course, all I got was no Pixie Stix, Mexican farts and a warrant out for my arrest for suspected pee pee abuse. Oh well.
Anyway, in all this talk of nonsense, we have gotten away from the team and the great game of baseball. In the course of all the above events, the CC'ers managed to win themselves a championship, complete with some chintzy trophies and a persistent sore throat for me.
So, now, a tribute to the team:
-Andrew (a.k.a. "Mandrew"): My main man, he smacked a number of clutch hits, including a huge triple. He catches like a future Pudge Rodriguez and overreacts to inside pitches like a future Manny Ramirez.
-Nick (a.k.a. "The Heater," "Nick the Stick") My second main man, he pitched like a younger, skinnier, shorter Randy Johnson. He also hit the ball like a madman and can beat my ass in Halo like nobody's business.
-Wyatt (a.k.a. "The Sheriff") Another favorite of mine because he has three things I had when young--he's blond, wears glasses and is skinny. I've lost one of those along the way, but I can still relate. Also, the Sheriff hits the ball like someone is whispering in his ear "Sheriff, get a hit here and no more puppies will ever have to die." Seriously, the boy hits everything.
-Phillip (a.k.a. "Phil-uh the Kill-uh") Possible the most mild-mannered, nicest kid I've ever met, the Killer also puts the hurt on the ball. He also throws some mean relief.
-Steven "Mo' Money" Yen - Steven tragically had his season cut short by breaking his thumb playing football. This is a shame, since the boy has a gun in the outfield. Seriously, I could be at home in Somerville and he could be in Concord and we could play catch.
-Zach (a.k.a. "Zach Attack") Zach had some monster hits and some excellent plays in the field. His name also begins with Z and that's just plain cool.
-Will (a.k.a. "Thriller") It may just be Human Nature, but I have to admire the six innings of masterful ball Thriller pitched last night. Seriously, he told the other team to Beat It. It was like Billie Jean against Bobby Riggs. He also already has groupies and they think he is one Pretty Young Thing (PYT).
-Tucker (a.k.a. "Tuck Tuck Goose") Another masterful pitcher, TTG would have been nicknamed "Rubber Tucky" if the tinklers had their way. Consider yourself lucky, young man.
-Patrick (a.k.a. "Pat the Bat") PTB had some serious plays in the field, a few monster hits and even a sweet turn at pitching. He's so versatile I'm having him do my taxes this year.
-Jake (a.k.a. "Jake and Bake") Jake gets a special shout out simply because he was the most into the whole nickname thing I had going on. I work hard, people, and a little recognition wouldn't kill you.
-Brendan (a.k.a. "Big Brendan Time") BBT is the Ortiz of the team in my mind. He always came up big in the clutch situations. He also never acknowledged me or smiled when I cheered him on. Frankly, I fear him.
-Chris (a.k.a. "Dinger") The only member of the team I saw hit a home run, Dinger also said I have a sick bike. You don't really have to do more than that to win points in my book. I'm that easy.
-Howard (a.k.a. "H-Bomb" "The Howitzer") The Howtizer was the coach of this squad and I admired his manner a great deal. He seemed to easily strike the difficult balance between encouraging the kids to win and teaching them to be good players and good sports. I never saw a Concord player showboat, argue a call or throw a tantrum. With ten year olds, this is a pretty big accomplishment. Hell, this would be an accomplishment for me, a world-reknowned terrible loser. It's especially impressive in light of how poorly some of the teams the boys played against behaved--pouting, taunting, valuing victory over solid baseball fundamentals, etc. So, hats off.
All in all, it was a pretty damn good season. I'll miss shouting at the top of my lungs and annoying everyone and they'll miss.... well, they probably won't miss me, but such is life.
