Don’t get so excited.  Don’t get so intense.  That’s what I try to tell myself three nights a week around 5 p.m.  My wife reminds me after every game night, “It’s just ten-year-old baseball.”  The problem might be me.  I have a hard time thinking of any opportunity to play baseball with the word “just” describing the game.  Maybe t-ball, but probably not.  Technically speaking, I might be the teeniest bit too high-strung when it comes to baseball.

Little League Baseball is not as important as things like birth, marriage or a fulfilling career.  But then again, maybe Little League Baseball is a sort of happy preparation for the really important things in life.

crestwood thunder baseball

Last night our regular season came to an end with a victory against a great team.  Tournaments begin this weekend.  The ten-year-old team I’ve had the privilege to coach went 13-4.  Pretty good for a team that was thrown together on draft day

Last night I attended my eldest son’s band camp concert.  The night before that both of my boys had baseball games.  In an hour I’ll be leaving to go to yet another baseball game.  Next weekend the daughter has a ballet recital.  Being a dad (or a mom) takes a lot of time.

I am told that in a year or two, my eldest son will resent me for no good reason.  In 5 years, he’ll put up with me in an effort to get to the car keys.