This past weekend, I had a full day of little league baseball and I was forced to face it solo; my wife was out of town and both of the boys had games. We left the house around 9:00 a.m. and did not get back until close to 5:00. The younger’s “coach” was a no show again, so I “coached” them (the quotes are there since it is T-Ball and “coaching” consists of telling the kids not to play in the dirt and trying not to curse). There is also no “winning” (nor “losing”) team since every batter ends up on first base. It does not matter if you hit the ball onto the Ben Franklin Parkway (which actually would be a foul ball, but it would be quite a feat) or you somehow miraculously get thrown out at first (that has only happened twice in the 87 games I have attended). Either case? Stop at first base. The last hitter in each inning then hits a “home run”–they circle the bases whether the ball lands on the Parkway or dribbles three inches on front of home plate.
The other coaches in the league also never use the “T” (despite the name of the league). Instead, they insist on underhand tossing the ball to kids who have a much better chance of winning the lottery than ever making contact with the ball. Then, not wanting to damage the kid’s self-esteem, they proceed to toss 37 pitches at the kid, hoping (praying even) that the kid makes some sort of contact to justify the coach’s brazen misinterpretation of the “rules”. I sit there watching in disbelief, almost passing out due to the number of audible sighs and eye rolling that this requires of me.
I am also an “assistant” coach with the older’s team. (The quotes are here since I never really agreed to anything but the other “coaches” are such a shipwreck that I felt I had to step in.) I agreed to be the third base coach, which means I spend the game screaming at other people’s kids to run or stop running, essentially a different version of the game “Red Light, Green Light” that I played as a kid.
This particular baseball game I almost got ejected (thrown out of the game) since nobody, including the umpire, had no stinking clue about a particular rule and I felt the need to point it out. This is certainly one of my biggest issues: a sense of “fairness” and when I feel it is being violated, I can’t resist the urge to voice my opinion. Unfortunately, when I voice my opinion, I also tend to get a bit snarky (especially when I know I am right). The umpire eventually had enough of my reasoning when I offered to Google the rule on my iPhone–I thought I was being helpful, but he “kindly” told me to sit down.
So when I got home I was hot, tired, and mentally spent. The whole walk home from the field I was lamenting the fact that I had not had the forethought to plop a bottle in the fridge. I did not beat myself up all that much since we left the house at 9:00 in the morning and even I do not think about wine at that hour (most of the time). I really did not want to wait until a white or rosé was chilled and I really was not in the mood for a red (OK, truth be told, I would have “settled” for a Pinot).
Alas, low and behold, as I opened the fridge to get some Gatorade (which was quickly grabbed by the older), I saw this bottle shinning like a beacon in the fridge door. I later found out that my wife had planted the bottle in the fridge before she left, anticipating such a predicament (I am not sure what that says about me or my wife–and which one is in more need of a 12-step process).
We are now on to our second case of this wine that we purchased from Last Bottle for a mere $12/bottle. As far as I have been able to tell, this winery went out of business and the great folks at Last Bottle got the “last bottles”. I have no idea if they have any other cases of this wine, but I sure hope they do. The baseball season is long and there will certainly be need of more “divine intervention”.
Here is the tasting note I wrote that night:
2006 Sans Permis Chardonnay La Chanson Argentee De Cuillere: Retail $40? I think I need to start referring to this wine as my “divine intervention wine” and would have only been better if I had a really long straw. Very Good to Excellent. 89-91 Points.
the drunken cyclist 
“…I offered to Google the rule on my iPhone.” it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.
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That’s what I thought….
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T-Ball with no T? You are lucky you weren’t there until 2 am!!
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Tell me about it. Pure torture…
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Really made me smile. My son is now 22, but at age 5, we tried to keep them in some semblance of their “position” by drawing a large circle in the dirt for each boy to stand in. This was to prevent all of them from running to every single ball that was hit. Our plan was thwarted by the fact that once in his circle, the boy wouldn’t reach even 1 inch outside of the circle to pick up a ball, moving or not. They will always surprise us!
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You have a 22 year old? You barely look 22 yourself! Thanks for the story–that is classic!
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Way to go, Wife! Cute story…
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Yeah, my wife pretty much rocks. Just ask her! 😉
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Wait a minute… Now I want to know what that rule was that almost got you ejected. Because, I can’t imagine there would be ANY rules left after tossing out the “rules” of what defines a hit and what a tee is used for.
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Runners on Second and Third. One out. Fly ball to left field. I have the guy on third tag up. Catch is made, runner takes off from third and scores. Runner on second did not tag and starts advancing to third. I scream at him to go back. The left fielder, after finally getting over the shock of catching the ball, finally gets the ball to the shortstop who then throws to second, registering the third out. I said to the umpire “Run scores, right?” He said “No, it was a force play at second.” To that I said, “No, it wasn’t a force play. If the run scored before the out (which it did), then the run counts.”
It went steadily downhill from there.
And we lost by one.
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I thiught if everyone makes it to first, then the batter wouldn’t have been out. Either way, I think u got hosed.
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One more – How is Last Bottle? it looks similar to WTSO. I like WTSO, but I can’t keep up with the emails. Plus, it seems they recycle more than a few of the wines. So how “sold out” are they really?
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I really like Last Bottle. They are very similar to WTSO, I guess, but they are out in Napa. They do not seem to do the volume that WTSO does, but they have very good customer service (you can actually talk to a person if you need to). On the other hand, WTSO is right across the river, so I get that wine in a couple of days where LB takes a week.
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In my opinion, kids need to learn that in life there are rewards for working hard, learning skills and putting them into practice. Why all this coddling? Sports are about knowing how to be part of a team and working towards goals together. Taking away any semblance of rules or outcomes completely negates any character building being on a sports team provides. Why even let them try and hit the ball (although as you mention, there would probably be a much greater success rate if they used the tee!)? Why not just declare everyone a home run-hitter after the first pitch is thrown? I don’t understand what they are working towards if not a win. *Rant over*
I must apologize that in my outrage over the state of skids’ sports I found it difficult to focus on the point of your story…now…where is that bottle of wine?
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The T-Ball league is a complete disaster, but our son has been going to his brother’s games for so long without being able to play, we could not say no. The kid gets absolutely nothing out of it, though. Certainly not learning the rules nor learning what it means to compete.
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Who’s going to win the Giro? I think Wiggo..
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I think it is going to be between Ryder and Nibali–at least that is who I took in Fantasy Giro!
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What a great wife – wine waiting like that. Oh, I definitely remember the ball games, but as the kids grow up, they are fond memories! I remember one little boy that left the field in tears because the crowd was yelling, “Go home, go home!” and he thought they wanted him to leave and not play any more.
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Yeah, the wife is pretty great–I certainly married up. And that is a great story! Poor little guy!
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I’ve always thought the notion that we ought to make marriages entirely free of co-dependency is at least as wacky as participating in a marriage that is 100% co-dependent. A little balance goes a long way. I mean, why get married if we can’t enjoy a little co-dependency? Good call, wife.
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I would agree, but I wonder if I am just on the receiving end of all the dependency!
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I doubt that you’re all take and no give. If you were, that wine would not have been in the fridge.
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