The Thrill of Little League Baseball Victory
May 19, 2008 9:04 AM | 0 Comments
I'm sure I've mentioned this about a million times: I am NOT a winner. The only thing I ever won outright was a Noah's Ark coloring book, which was one of the prizes handed out at a 5-year-old birthday party. I think I won a few of my high school tennis matches, but the eye of the tiger is not a part of my psychological makeup. This is why my reactions to my son Austin's Little League Baseball experience are so odd. He's 10, and his team, which I have nicknamed the Boa Constrictors, has devoured all of the prey in its path. They are undefeated for the regular season, as they coil their way into the playoffs. 
The Boa's last game was on Saturday morning at 9am (they're always at inconvenient times), and do you know that their opponents had the nerve to put up a good fight? I got used to the Boas winning handily and began to have a sense of entitlement. Ahhh, the intoxication of winning; I felt it for the first time. I also felt competitive, tense about the outcome, tense about my son's performance, AND I was shocked to hear myself shouting loudly, obnoxiously from the bleachers. It's a transmogrification process, which I believe is only temporary. For a period of time, my husband Bryan was sitting in the stands of the other team, having a convivial chat with some of the other players' parents, but several of the Moms on our side ganged up on me and said that this fraternizing with the enemy had to stop: It was giving our team some bad Mojo. So, I extricated Bryan. Sure enough, the tide turned, and the Boa Constrictors were back, squeezing a final, suffocating win from the Sweat Socks. Naturally, I don't know the score, but they won.
More to come, as the playoffs begin next week...
Is this how you feel at your children's athletic events, or are you lukewarm?
The Sports Widow
(aka Nan Hall)
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