Baseball Widow

The Little League Baseball Playoffs are Playing The Sports Widow

June 6, 2007 6:27 AM | 1 Comments

The Boa Constrictors played their third game of the playoffs in the West Seattle Little League and, through some mighty playing, earned the right to play ANOTHER game this Friday. You mean this could keep going FOREVER? I could be exposed to the whims of Northwest nature and freeze my tail off in the stands more? The joy. The rapture. The sports widow moments.

Here are some of the game highlights:

18-year-old Courtney, a cousin of one of the players (Zach) and a die-hard softball player, belted out new cheers and inspirational phrases, which I tried to commit to memory. Things like: "Pick any bag" (I was afraid someone would choose me) and more Zen-like comments like: "Be the Batter," "Take it, it's yours, baby." One phrase confused me because it sounded like a single word: "Stardust." Because I love words, this conjured up the image of a magical moment, where the bat makes contact in just the right spot at just the right time, sending the ball shooting off to nearby Bainbridge Island as everyone stands frozen and awe-struck. Good thing I didn't repeat it; Courtney, who is from Iowa and has a Midwestern accent, was actually just saying "Start Us." One of the player's grandparents yelled: "Hit one for Murray." Again, putting it through my romantic, dramatic lens, I thought it was probably akin to "Do it for the Gipper," and that Murray was, as we speak, in a hospital bed, but it just related to a favorite character in a video game.

I confess that I tried to scream and show my support A LOT, but I've learned to echo the other parents who understand the game. Rarely am I the scream initiator for fear of making a mistake and becoming a mockery.

This time, I watched the Home Base umpire a little more closely, admiring his apron with the pockets on the hips and his deft use of a tiny base brush. I wondered what other paraphernalia he's got tucked into that apron. Periodically he would reach for a libation, which was tucked in an elbow section of PVC pipe that cleverly was jerry-rigged to the fencing. This ump was one of the more serious, confident, emphatic deliverers of judgment.

Austin slid into home base and experienced what I call a Tide Detergent Moment. Frequently, we can just dust off his uniform, but this feat gives his uniform a roundtrip ticket to the front-loader.

12-year-old Kit had to miss her school picnic for this, but drown her sorrows working the Snack Shack. Every time we peeked in to check on her, she was drinking or eating something, exercising her right to consume .

In the middle of the game the wife of The League Agent handed her cell phone to my husband Bryan. He wanted to talk about try-outs this Sunday for the All-Star Game, which apparently is "a big commitment."

I'm scared. I thought being a Little League mom itself was a "big commitment."