Nothing Like the Thirst-Quenching Relief Of...

...candy bars?

The girls' Fall Softball League has officially begun, accompanied by the Fall Ball fundraiser: candy bars! But due to their school's "Healthy Snack" policy, they can't sell them at school. That blows. I seem to remember a box of candy bars permanently attached to my arm throughout my junior high/high school days as a penance for being artistic. You never saw a football player hawking candy bars, candles, wrapping paper, or make-it-yourself pizzas. Never. Kailey and Kyra, too young to yet be fazed by the negative stigma attached to fundraisers, bless their hearts, attacked this challenge with true entrepreneurial spirit, setting up a chocolate bar stand in the driveway in the 104° heat.

Unfortunately there's not too much foot traffic down our street at 4:00 pm during the summertime. And despite jumping and screaming at every car that passed by, they couldn't get anyone to stop for a $2 candy bar. I didn't have the heart to tell the girls they were probably scaring people away. If it wasn't for their friends from down the street, bless THEIR hearts, the day would've been a total loss.

I can see what's coming. The girls' enthusiasm will wane after a couple of days, and I'll shell out a hundred bucks for two boxes of overpriced chocolate that I'll then, in turn, guilt my co-workers into buying because I've supported their kids' stupid fundraisers (you know who you are). So don't pretend to be busy when I visit your cubicle/edit bay/control room with the gargantuan box of milk chocolaty chocolate bars under my arm. You're buying.

BIG time.

Kyra at the Bat

I haven't written too much about the girls' softball games this Spring because there really hasn't been much to write about. Aside from Kailey making her pitching debut and a few defensive plays here and there, their season has been unremarkable. I think they've had about five hits between them all season long, quite a turn around from last season. I'm primarily to blame as I haven't taken had the time to work with them, and I feel badly about that.

This past week has been one of the crappiest of recent memory. I had final projects due in both classes, Kailey was sick, my boss was fired, creating turmoil in my department, and I spent way too much time talking with pushy mortgage lenders as we investigate refinancing the house. When we found out that Kailey woke up with a fever, meaning she would miss today's game, the last thing I wanted to do was go to watch Kyra struggle through the game on her own. Boy was I wrong.

The girls' team has thirteen players. Everyone bats, and in a three-inning game with a three-run limit per inning, only the first batters are assured of hitting more than once in a game. Since Kailey and Kyra have been sucking it up at the plate this year, they've been hitting at the bottom of the order and averaging only one at-bat per game. This morning only eight players showed up. There would be multiple at bats for all.

The girls spent the night with my in-laws, so my father-in-law got Kyra to field before the game. Diane and I arrived about fifteen minutes before game time where we met her coach in the parking lot. "I pitched batting practice with whiffle golf balls, and Kyra hit every single one," he told us. "Let's hope she does it in the game."

We'll see, I thought.

Given her impressive BP display, Kyra was slotted to bat second. The first batter struck out, and Kyra strode confidently into the batters box. She looked good. The pitcher threw four consecutive balls which brought out the coach to pitch. It seems like the only time I pray these days is when the girls come to bat. "Please, Dear Lord..." She swung at the first pitch and missed, strike one.

"That's OK! Good swing, Kyra! Watch that ball all the way to the bat!"

She fouled off the next pitch, strike two.

"Good job, Kyra! You got a piece of it! Now straighten it out!"

Coach held up the ball, made sure Kyra was ready, then sent it spinning toward the plate. There was joy in Mudville today, though. The mighty Kyra hit the ball. Fair. A high pop fly that dropped right between the pitcher, third baseman, and shortstop, who all looked at each other expecting someone else to try and catch it. It wasn't pretty, but Kyra got on base. We went ballistic.

She batted twice more, crushing the ball both times for doubles. She scored three times and the Vipers won a hard fought game 9-5. Better late than never, I guess.

After the game, her coach asked her what she had for breakfast.

"A cinnamon roll."

Breakfast of champions.

You Wouldn't Like Her When She's Angry

After Kailey's first outing as a pitcher, I knew that if she wanted to pitch with any regularity she was going to need to practice...a lot. And I also knew that I was going to need to carve out some more time to practice with her. So yesterday we made a quick trip out to Sports Authority so I could replace my softball glove that somebody "misplaced", a.k.a. "lost" (you know who you are), and then returned home where we proceeded to break my new glove in. I got a pretty sweet deal, BTW. After a 25% off coupon and finding a glove on sale for another 20% off, I got an $80 glove for $48. You can check the math.

In the girls' softball league, the distance from the pointy tip of home plate to the pitcher's rubber is 32 feet. That's a long way for an 8 or 9 year-old to throw a softball, underhand, with any sort of velocity on it, or accuracy for that matter. It takes a lot of practice. The good thing about pitching in softball is that, though it doesn't seem like it, the underhand motion of pitching a softball is more natural than the overhand pitching of a baseball. Baseball pitchers require several days to rest their pitching arms after an outing. Not so with softball pitchers. They can pitch day after day after day. And that's a good thing in a sport that requires an endless amount of practice to hone the technique and skills to become a pitcher. The only thing is, they have to want it, bad. So we're about to see how much Kailey wants to become a pitcher.

We headed out to the back yard and started warming up. She started with a Karate Kid looking drill called "The Flamingo" where she stood on one leg, pointed her gloved hand at me, and rested her hand with the ball on top of her head. It was quite amusing. In one fluid motion, she stepped toward me, pushing off of that back foot and simultaneously swinging her arm down and flipping the ball to me. Steeeee-rike! Of course we started this drill at about 20 feet and moved back a couple feet every five pitches or so. By the time she got back to 32 feet, she was all over the place. Then she started losing focus and screwing around.

This is where it becomes tricky for me. I'm not naturally one of those super-testosterone-infused sports dads, but when the girls start messing around when I feel they need to be focusing on the task at hand, I can feel my temperature start to rise. When I told Kailey to stop being silly and to focus, she got mad at me and wanted to quit. When I told her she couldn't quit, she started coming up with excuses: her tummy hurt, she was hungry, she had to go to the bathroom. I'd had it. Like Dr. Bruce Banner morphing into the Incredible Hulk, my transformation into bastard sports dad was complete. "Listen," I told her, "you are going to throw twenty more pitches. If I hear any more complaining out of you, you're gonna throw twenty more. Got it?"

Kailey glared at me. She was pissed. This exercise that was meant to be fun had become anything but. She wound up and let the ball fly. Ssssssssssss....crack. Right over the plate. Right into my glove, stinging my hand. It was as beautiful a pitch I've ever seen a nine year-old deliver. "That's it, Kailey! Again!" She was still mad, and delivered the same stinging pitch. Steeeeeeeee-rike! At this point, after seeing she had delivered two beautiful strikes in a row, Kailey's mood changed. I could almost see the switch being flipped inside her head. She dialed in, delivering three more beautiful pitches in a row. She was now having fun and so was I, and she probably ended up pitching around 35-40 more balls. She kept throwing strikes and I kept saying, "Good! Again!" until she finally asked if we could be done. I was thankful that we ended a potentially catastrophic practice session on a good note.

All of this has left me evaluating my role as a parent. Ultimately I want my girls to have fun in any activity they choose to participate in, but I also feel that in certain instances that I, as a parent, need to become a sort of co-keeper of their dreams, knowing when to push them and when to back off. I have no doubt that the girls will be able to do anything they want to do in life, but I would be doing them a disservice if I just let them wander through life with no focus or determination. I just don't want to become too overbearing in the process. If Kailey really wants to become a good pitcher, I feel like I need to embrace that as well because I know what it's going to take for her to get there: lots of practice and lots of repetition, even when she doesn't feel like doing it at that very moment. And if after putting in the work Kailey decides that pitching is not for her, I'm cool with that. We'll move on to something else.

For now, one thing's for sure. The next time Kailey pitches in a game, I'm going to get her nice and pissed at me, because when Kailey pitches angry, she's lights out.

We Want a Pitcher!

Softball season has been in full swing again for the past month. The girls are on the same team this season with yet another team name and another team color, and their dresser drawers are now beginning to overflow with past uniforms. At least we won't have to shuttle between two sets of practices and games this season. Yee ha.

Still, I've felt a bit out of it because between work and my classes, I haven't been able to make any of their practices and only half of their games. I really hate that, but I look at it as a short term problem where hopefully in the future I'll be able to see all games and practices.

I was able to go to their softball game this morning where Kailey pitched in her first game. We were so excited and so was she. Kailey has been practicing hard on her pitching this season, coming an hour early to practices to learn and work on her technique. Throwing a softball underhand, hard, and accurate is no easy task. It's much more difficult than pitching a baseball, at least in my opinion, and I'm proud of the way Kailey has dedicated herself.



Her first outing was a little rough. She pitched one inning, threw two strikes, hit one batter, and gave up three runs. But she looked damn good doing it!



She said she had fun and wasn't nervous at all. That's OK because Diane and I were plenty nervous for her. It's a little nerve wracking when your kid's pitching and the crowd is dead silent, waiting for her to throw a frickin' strike. When she finally did, everyone cheered like the Cubs won a pennant.





When she finally got out of the inning, she came over to us grinning from ear to ear. Someday she'll gauge her performance by the numbers she produces, but not today. Today she was the pitcher, her team won the game, and that's all that mattered.



Oh yeah, and Kyra played one heck of a catcher!

Hey Ump! Where's Yer Glasses!

Kailey and Kyra had their weekly softball double header this morning, meaning that we were up early and at the ballfields at about 7:20. The girls were warming up and Diane and I were setting up our chairs and chatting with another parent when the coach approached me at the fence. "Our umpire didn't show up. Do you want to ump?"

Hmmm. Let me think about that for a millisecond. "Do I WANT to ump? Hell no. Do you NEED me to ump?"

"We need an ump."

I looked down at Diane who was snickering at me from her camping chair. "Can I bring my coffee?" I asked.

"I'll HOLD your coffee for you," he replied.

And so that's how I came to ump my first girls "fastpitch" softball game. And I think I did a pretty darn good job...until Kailey came up to bat. Up to that point, I had established a pretty wide strike zone: literally from the knees to the chest. If the girls got the ball over the plate without putting it in the dirt, I called it a strike. And that didn't happen very often. I had called a few higher pitches for our pitchers and was ready to do the same for the opposing team, but they weren't getting the ball anywhere near the strike zone...until Kailey came up to bat.

After taking the first pitch for a ball, Kailey swung at and missed the second pitch. She took ball two and ball three, then the fifth pitch came in over the plate, chest high. Crap. It was probably a little high, but it was a pitch that I had been giving to our pitchers. "Strike two," I whimpered.

Her coach gave me a good-natured ribbing. "Oh MAN, that's your OWN DAUGHTER!" he yelled from the dugout.

I shrugged and lamely shot back, "Hey, I've been giving you guys that same pitch all morning." He just laughed. I felt sick.

The sixth pitch missed just outside. Ball four, which in this league means that the coach then comes in to pitch. He jogged out the mound to pitch to Kailey with two strikes. She fouled one off before striking out swinging. I felt like a traitor as I watched her walk back to the dugout. I didn't have long to dwell on those feelings because Kyra came up to bat next. The pitcher mercifully threw no strikes and Kyra hit into a fielder's choice to end the inning.

As I was walking back to the dugout to retrieve my coffee (coach must have decided against holding it for me), I ran into Kailey as she was taking the field. "Thanks a lot, DAD," she teased with a big grin across her face.

"Hit the ball," I teased back. "That way you can't blame ME for your strikeouts." She just grunted and jogged out to her position.

The game finished without much incident, but I didn't enjoy umping all that much. I couldn't root for our team and had to keep repressing my excitement over hits and scored runs. So I've come up with a plan. Next week I think I'll intentionally arrive five minutes late to the game so they'll have to ask someone else to do the umping. I think I've fulfilled my softball obligations for the season.

Fall. Ball. Fall Ball.

Last weekend was opening weekend for the girls' Fall softball league. Here are the stats to bring you up to speed:

New Team Name: Dragons

New Colors: Red, black, & White

New Uniforms: Cool



Number of Uniforms Owned in 2007: Kailey - 3; Kyra - 2

Funding for New Uniforms: Car Wash






Number of Practices Per Week: 2

Number of Games Per Week: 2 - A double-header on Saturday Mornings

Alarm Settings for Saturday Mornings: 6:00 a.m.



Dragons' Record As of Week 2: 2-1-1

Kailey's Batting Average After 4 Games: 1.000

Kyra's Batting Average After 4 Games: .000

Number of Times Daddy's Told Kyra Not to Swing at Crap Over Her Head: 1,312

Number of Times Daddy's Told Kyra Not to Swing at Crap in the Dirt: 4

Number of Times Daddy's Told Kyra to Pay Attention: 1 million

Number of Remaining Games for Kyra to "Adjust" to the Older League: 16

You Know You're Out of Shape When...

Last week the girls started practices for Fall Softball, aka Fall Ball. They practice twice a week, one practice focusing on defense, the other, on offense. Tuesday night was an offensive practice, and I decided to lend a hand. One of the coaches was pitching for batting practice, the other coach and a dad were working with pitchers, and they had set up a batting net in order conduct soft toss drills. In soft toss, the batter faces the net while a coach softly tosses the ball just slightly in front of the batter. The batter then drives the ball into the net. The drill teaches batters to maintain balance, to keep their eyes on the ball, and to reinforce proper swing mechanics. I decided to be the soft toss guy for the evening.

One by one the girls came to me to work on their swing. I would ask them what their name was, then introduced myself as Kailey and Kyra's dad, and briefly explained to them what we were going to do. I had three balls to work with. I dropped to my left knee and held up the first ball while the batter crouched into her batting stance. Then I tossed the ball, allowed the batter a few seconds to reset her stance, tossed the next ball, etc. When I had exhausted my limited supply of balls, I stood up, collected them and resumed my position on my left knee. I repeated this routine, the equivalent of a right leg lunge (that IS me in the pic, BTW), roughly one million times. By the end of practice, my shirt was soaked with sweat and I was in desperate need of a beer, er, water. It was completely insane!

Yesterday morning I almost fell to the floor while getting out of bed as my thighs and my, umm, gluteus maximus, screamed out in pain. How pathetic is that? And today the pain isn't much better. I'm a little paranoid because I think I'm walking kinda...funny, which doesn't help the situation either because in my attempt to avoid using the muscles that are hurting, I'm using OTHER muscles that I don't normally use for walking which causes THEM to hurt as well. I'm a frickin' mess! Methinks this is a bit of a wakeup call. No, not to exercise. That's too much work. I think I need to let the more in-shape mommies and daddies help out at softball practice from now on. Sorry girls.

Tourney Time: The Bad & The Ugly

Well it's too bad that even a tournament for 8 year-olds has to have ugly moments. It's sad when the kids are more mature than the adults, and this weekend reminded me once again of how easily children's sporting events can turn to fisticuffs amongst the parents. On to the review of the Bad and the Ugly of All-Star Tournament weekend.


The Bad

I've alluded to it in previous posts, but the weather sucked. It was too freakin' hot, and I'm amazed that none of the players succumbed to heat exhaustion. Kudos to the coaches who kept the girls hydrated and sprayed down. Temperatures averaged around 105 and topped out at 108.

And it was ridiculous what the parents had to drag around to keep from dying. You couldn't sit on the metal bleachers unless you wanted your ass served sunny-side up. So the area surrounding the ball fields turned into tent city with families hauling and erecting 10' and 12' portable canopies to provide shelter from the sun. In between games there was a steady flow of tournament refugees toting canopies, chairs, and coolers between the fields and the parking lot. It was quite the sight to see. By the time we actually got our canopy and chairs set up, we were drenched with sweat and spent the rest of the game sucking down as much water as possible to replace the liquid draining from our sweat glands.

So I'm thinking that next year All-Star weekend should take place around April.


The Ugly

I think if there's anything worse than a sore loser, it's a sore winner. I mean, seriously, you're winning. What in the world do you have to complain about? We played the tournament #1 seed twice and got stomped 9-0 and 6-0, even though we gave them a tough fight through half of the second game. In both of those games, their coaches and/or parents complained about some activity surrounding our team. In the first game, the teenage brother of one of the girls on Kailey's team brought a small cow bell. He attached it to his chair and rang it when one of our girls got a hit or made a good play. He wasn't being overly raucous or obnoxious with it, but at the end of the second inning, when we were losing 6-0, the umpire came up to the backstop and said, "Ummm, I'm sorry, didn't realize this but cow bells aren't allowed." They were routing us and complaining about a cow bell. Pretty pathetic.

It gets worse. We were playing for our tournament lives in our Sunday afternoon rematch, and our girls were stoked. We held the #1 seed scoreless for the first two innings and the heat was on. Our girls came up to bat in the top of the third inning and everyone in the dugout was doing cheers and getting into the game. We had them up against the ropes and we knew it.

At some point in the inning one of the opposing team's coaches called time and came out to speak with the ump (the same ump who banned our cow bell). They spoke in hushed tones for a minute, then the ump walked over to our coach at third base and spoke to him for a minute. A smirk crept across our coach's face as he and the ump walked across the field to our dugout on the first base side. There they addressed our team for a few moments before the ump took his position behind the plate and our coach returned to third base. The whole time the crowd buzzed wondering what the hell was going on.

Our questions were answered moments later. And it didn't help the situation that most of the parents from both teams were lumped together behind home plate under the canopies of the tent city erected there. One of the moms from the other team delivered the news to everyone within earshot in a manner reminiscent of a prissy schoolgirl ratting out a spitball-wielding classmate. "It's in the RULES. They are not supposed to cheer while the pitcher is in the act of pitching. It's in the RULES."

A collective groan arose from the cluster of Southeast parents. Are you even f-ing kidding me? Here we are, the first team in the tournament to give them a real game, and they're nitpicking on when and how the girls can cheer? If our girls were screaming at the point of the pitcher's release and trying to razz her, then I think their complaint would be legitimate. But they weren't. They were getting into the spirit of the game, and to us, the complaint was totally petty.

The atmosphere behind home plate was tense after that, to say the least, and a few words were exchanged between parents. Fortunately, after a brief period of grumbling, everyone exercised restraint and tried their best to enjoy the game. Their girls scored three runs in the bottom of the third, effectively ending the game. We came so close to rubbing it in their fat faces...is that bad?

In a way, yes, it is. These are 8 year-old girls we're talking about here (although they had twelve of the biggest 8 year-olds I'VE ever seen). They probably still play Barbie's, and dress up, and do all the things that 8 year-old girls do. It's what the adults do that taint the kids and teach them that it's OK to do whatever it takes to win or that winning is the only thing. So, in essence, I guess I really wanted to rub it in the coaches' "fat faces".

Oh, I forgot another vital piece of information concerning those coaches. Diane and her mom were sitting by the opposing team's bench during their first drubbing when they overheard their head coach talking about our team. "This is what we used to look like before I took over this program," he bragged. What an ass. Sure, he's built a winning program, but at what cost? A program that produces a bunch of cry babies when they're winning? I'd hate to see how ugly it gets when they lose. And what does it teach these little girls?

OK, at this point I realize that I'm probably the one who sounds like a sore loser. It's not that at all. It didn't bother me in the least that we lost to the #2 seed on Saturday night. It was a close game, and, more importantly, their team was good and they handled themselves with class. They didn't bitch and moan that girls were being girls. Their coaches weren't these raging type-A personalities with testosterone gushing out of every pore of their bodies. They were competitive and they played hard, but they kept it all in perspective.

So while it was disappointing as the underdog to come up short against the #1 seed, I was still proud of our girls. They worked hard after losing a couple of games when they could have just given up. Now Kailey's coaches are talking about starting a Fall Ball team, so we'll see what Kailey wants to do. She's definitely a talented softball player and we want to encourage her and support her in any REASONABLE way we can. If she wants to play, we'll sign her up. I just want to make sure that I don't become one of those ultra-competitive softball fanatics, which I could probably slip into rather easily.

But for now, we'll just take a little breather from softball, until next week that is. Monday morning at 6:00 am, Kailey AND Kyra will be joining me in the backyard for drills and BP, 'cause next year we're gonna win it all!

Tourney Time: The Good Part 2

If I know anything about blog readers, it's that they'd much prefer reading about the bad and the ugly over the good. So I'll try to make the good brief, then move on to the juicy stuff.

Southeast had its first single-elimination tournament game Sunday morning against Tanque Verde. We cruised to a 7-2 victory and started to look like the team I envisioned prior to the tournament. Southeast was hitting its stride at just the right time because our next game was a rematch against The Amazon Women of Sahuaro, pictured above. As you can see from the picture, #8 is our tallest player. The three Sahuaro players at the left of the picture are all as tall, if not bigger. The whole team was like that. It was David vs. Goliath.

The atmosphere was electric, the tension, palpable. Parents of the Southeast players, quiet for most of the tournament, came to life. It felt like we were playing for a national championship. Pitching dominated the game. We hung with them for the first two innings, holding them scoreless. But the Sahuaro pitchers were too good and too plentiful, rotating in a new pitcher each inning, and our two pitchers eventually wore down in the heat. Sahuaro had two three-run innings and sent us home 6-0. Our tourney run was over, but we gave them a hell of a fight. After the game, the Sahuaro coaches told our coaches that we were the only team to give them a hard time up to that point in the tournament.

Kailey went 1 for 1 at the plate against Sahuaro, and was one of the few Southeast players to get on base. She fouled off one pitch from the Sahuaro pitcher, who was throwing smoke for a 12, er, 8 year-old. Kailey eventually drew four balls from the opposing pitcher and then hit a single off of her coach. It wasn't her best hit, but it was probably one of her best at bats. Since she batted at the bottom of the order, she never had more than one at bat per game. She batted .500 for the tournament going 2 for 4, with one strike out and one hit pitch. Not too shabby.

And I can't say it enough: Kailey toughed it out. Actually, all those girls toughed it out. It was hotter than hell out there and they were tired from playing so many games, yet they gave it their all. Not bad for a bunch of 8 year-olds. Hopefully they collected more than just their participation medals (that's what's going on in the picture. Kailey is the one walking back in line). I know that whenever I look at Kailey's medal, I'll be reminded of the hard work and the fight that she and her whole team put up in her first All-Star tournament. And I'll remind her of how proud I was.

Sorry kids, it's late and I'm tired. The tournament bad and ugly will have to wait another day.

Tourney Time

It's Monday morning, and we're all recovering from a hectic weekend of softball, Kailey's first All-Star tournament. Overall, it was a good experience, even though the Southeast Boring White Jersey All-Stars came nowhere close to winning the tournament. I was, most of all, proud of Kailey, because this tournament was one of those times where you hope you can teach your children some important life lessons. While I can't proclaim with any measure of certainty that she learned that lesson, I'm confident that a solid foundation was put in place, and Diane and I, as parents, need to continue to build.

As I tucked Kailey in bed last night, we talked about the tournament and about those lessons and what she learned. At one point she asked me, "Daddy, why are you whispering?"

I played it macho. I couldn't tell her the real reason I was whispering; that I thought I might break down if I talked in my normal voice. That's how proud I was. I just told her it was late and we were talking in our goodnight voices. She was OK with that.

Enough of the mushiness and on to the details of All-Star Weekend: the Good, the Bad, & the Ugly.


The Good

The Southeast All-Stars played their hearts out. They had a rough start to the tournament and played five games in 30 hours, something probably none of them have ever done before. They very easily could have gotten down on themselves and given up, but they gave their very best to the bitter end.

Friday and Saturday's games were used to determine the tournament seeds. Actual tournament play took place on Sunday. Southeast played three games on Saturday to determine their tournament ranking. They went 1 and 2 and ended up being ranked 5th out of 6 teams. Ouch. I honestly wasn't expecting that. In their first game, they played the Amazon Women of Sahuaro, the softball juggernauts of Tucson. They are the Tucson softball equivalent of the New York Yankees...the very best that money can buy. Did I write that out loud? Everybody ("hates" is a really strong word) wants to beat them really, REALLY bad. Problem is, they're too big and too good. Their smallest player was as big as our biggest player. And they cleaned our clocks 9-0 on Saturday morning. Welcome to the tournament, ladies and germs.

The bats came to life and we bounced back in our next game against Las Ninas, winning 7-5. However, Kailey suffered a bit of a mental crisis. The girls were taking batting practice before the game, and Kailey cracked herself in the knee with her bat while warming up. She had a bruise, but I think the combination of injury, heat and fatigue took its toll on her little body. She didn't want to play and told Diane she wanted to go home. Since that wasn't an option, she instead sat out of the game until it was her turn to bat. That's when the pitcher hit her on the other leg. Talk about adding injury to injury. Kailey limped to first base and ran to second on the next batter's base hit where she collapsed on the base and burst into tears. Her coach scooped her up and carried her back to the shade of the dugout. We applied ice to her leg, and she sat out the rest of the game.

I thought Kailey's leg was well enough play. Diane thought so too. Her coaches graciously stayed out of it and supported and encouraged her as best they could. But Kailey had made up her mind that she was hurt and couldn't play at the risk of further injury. Thankfully, there was a nice long break between games two and three, so we went home, cleaned her up and laid her down for a much-needed nap. In fact, we all laid down for much-needed naps. We also gave her a nice long pep talk about teamwork and not giving up and working through adversity and all that not-so-crappy crap.

The bottom line was that her team needed her and she wasn't pulling her weight. Sure it was hot as hell out there, but everyone was playing in the same heat. And before the game, one of Kailey's teammates got hit in the nose during warm-ups unleashing a bloody geyser across right field. She played the whole game because Kailey was riding the bench with a slightly bruised knee. Kailey's response: "Well it stopped bleeding." I guess compassion isn't one of her strong suits.

After making sure Kailey was well rested, fed and hydrated, Diane and I basically told her she would play the next game. I guess compassion isn't one of our strong suits either. We weren't being cruel, overbearing sports parents (I don't think). But we know our children. We know when they're giving their all and when they're holding back. Kailey had a bruise on her knee half the size of a dime, yet she carried on as though she was awaiting the amputation a gangrenous leg. We knew this was a situation she was going to have to push through, and we pushed her to do it.

Their third game was against a fundamentally sound Oro Valley team. I could tell by the way they were warming up that this would be a tough game. Kailey gave us a couple of last-ditch-effort whines before the game, but we encouraged her to stick with it. And she did for the rest of the tournament. Southeast gave them a great fight but fell short 4-2, thus cementing our 5th seed. If we were going to win the championship, we'd have to win three games on Sunday and beat the #1 seed Amazon Women of Sahuaro in game 2. Incidentally, Oro Valley was the #2 seed.

Kailey played the game, and afterward we heaped on the praise. She didn't give her greatest performance, but she pushed through the pain, the discomfort, and the fear, and for that, I'm extremely proud. And she contributed to her team when the tournament officially started Sunday morning.

...to be continued.

Last Primer Before All-Star Weekend

Kailey's big All-Star tournament is next weekend, and her team has been practicing HARD the past few weeks to get ready. They're taking this thing very seriously. I love it. What I don't love is their lack of a team name. They simply call themselves "Southeast" or "Eastside", which has nowhere near the ring of the Blue (Balls) Bandits. Even their All-Star jerseys are boring. They're white. We may as well call ourselves the Southeast Eastside Boring White Jersey All-Stars. I understand the practicality of the choice of white for their jerseys. They're playing in a weekend tournament in 100+ degree heat, and white jerseys will keep them as cool as can be under those circumstances. But it's still boring.

Fortunately, the Southeast All-Stars' play is anything BUT boring. This morning they had a scrimmage game against another local All-Star team in as a kind of last minute primer before the tournament. They won 6-2, and I saw several positives going into All-Star weekend.

As is true for any baseball/softball team, the key to having a great team is pitching. If you've got great pitching, you're on your way. In Kailey's league, the girls pitch. When they pitch four balls, the opposing team's coach comes in and pitches. The common batting strategy is to wait for the opposing team's pitcher, who usually sucks, to throw her four balls, and then swing away when the coach comes in to serve big fat meatballs. This strategy takes great fortitude as the batter has absolutely no idea where those four pitches are going to end up. At least one of them always goes over the backstop, and you can all but guarantee that another one is coming for her head. But if your team has a pitcher that can actually throw STRIKES, the batter gets frazzled. At best, or worst depending on your team, she'll watch two strikes go by before striking out swinging at a pitch two miles over her head. Otherwise she'll have one or two strikes on her before the coach comes in to pitch, making the odds in favor of a strikeout. Keep the coach off the mound and your chance of winning greatly increase. The Southeast Eastside Boring White Jersey All-Stars have several girls who can throw strikes consistently.

After pitching comes offense, and Eastside can hit from the top to the bottom of the order. The question is will they swing at the strikes thrown by the other teams' pitchers? I don't know. The opposing teams' pitching this morning was pretty atrocious. I think they can.

Defense at this age group is pretty much a non-factor. Every team's defense sucks, with the exception of a couple good plays per game. These girls are still working to refine the motor skills required to field, throw, and catch. If they knock a ball down, you encourage them with a "good job!" If they field the ball cleanly and make a good throw, the encouragement grows in excitement. But if the 1st baseman catches the ball or if they catch a pop up, everyone pees themselves with excitement. You'd think the Cubs won the Series. Eastside managed to make a few key, pee-inducing defensive plays, including a couple of caught fly balls. If they keep it up, they'll go far into the tournament.

One last note concerning the sad state of affairs surrounding modern sport. This morning before the game, as the parents were lounging around sucking down water and trying not to die of heat stroke, one of the coach's wives surprised us with a last minute tournament requirement: birth certificates. We already submitted a copy of Kailey's birth certificate with her original softball registration. But apparently the pressure to excel is so great, even at this young age, that coaches are tempted to cheat and recruit older girls to their rosters. So we have to submit another copy of her birth certificate to tournament organizers so they can verify her age. She'll pass that test, and then it will be tournament time. They face a stiff opponent in their first game Saturday morning: the Amazon Women of Sahuaro. Can't wait.

GO SOUTHEAST EASTSIDE BORING WHITE JERSEY ALL-STARS!!

Hey Now, You're an All Star

Kailey's Blue (Balls) Bandit softball season came to an end last night with a loss against their league arch-rivals, Lightning. The game was a meaningless one as Lightning already eliminated the Bandits from the playoffs. Only one team from each league can enter the city-wide playoffs, and Lightening earned that spot outright by beating the Bandits in their regular season meetings. Kailey had a good game offensively, going 2-3 at the plate with no strike outs.

The good news of the night was that Kailey's softball season was extended when we learned that she was selected for her league's All Star Team. Way to go, Kailey! So now, she'll be practicing with her All Star Team in preparation for a tournament at the end of June. And it sounds like the tournament is a pretty big deal, with opening ceremonies, special tournament programs, All Star uniforms, and All Star team support shirts, all for a price, of course. Still, it sounds like it should be an exciting time, and Kailey is pumped. I'm going to take a couple of days off from work so I can attend the whole tournament. I must be nuts. Taking time off from work to attend a softball tournament in the southern Arizona summer heat? I can't wait.

Tee Ball is His-to-ry!

This morning I attended my last tee ball game, EVER! Whoo hoo! If I never see another tee ball game, it will be too soon. No more kids picking their noses, digging in the dirt, or getting hit in the head with the softball because they weren't paying attention. Actually, I kind of liked seeing the kids get hit by the ball...it was the only entertaining part of the game. Perhaps I'm just a little grumpy due to a severe lack of sleep. For some reason, the league likes to schedule the tee ball games at 8:00 am on Saturday mornings when there's not another living soul on the park's four softball fields until at least 10:00. The only benefit to playing early is to beat the penetrating rays of the desert sun, but if I had my choice, I'd rather sleep the extra two hours.

By around 8:30, I was snoozing through this game. Diane and I took our seats at the top of the bleachers for no other reason than there were bars that we could rest our backs up against. I dozed off until it was Kyra's turn to bat. Then I made my way up to the fence to take pictures and video of her at the plate. In fact, it seems like all of the dads had their cameras this morning, and we took turns marching up to the fence to capture amazing moments of our offspring flailing their bats at that elusive yellow ball.

Kyra actually did pretty well at the plate, hitting off the pitcher twice. She always seems to have to use the tee on her last at bat, a victim of boredom or fatigue due the slow pace of the game. I think she was also a little bummed. She didn't get to do any of the things she liked during the game: she didn't hit first or last (the last batter gets to run all the bases after they hit), and she didn't get to play pitcher or first base, the two field positions that get 99.9% of the action. So she was pouting.

When I look back at the season, I think we should have moved Kyra up to the next level, into Kailey's league. She would have been stimulated and challenged more, and I believe she would have excelled. And, more importantly, it would have made our lives much less hectic! Oh well...coulda, woulda, shoulda. Just like my beloved Cubbies, there's always next year. Unless we enroll them in fall ball.

The Night the Bats Were Silent (Game Night)

It was a cold, blustery evening for softball, and it seemed like the Blue (Balls) Bandits were in no mood to play, which became evident in their 4-0 loss to the Amazon Women of Sahuaro. Seriously, half the girls on the other team looked like they should be playing on the 13U team. The final score is deceptive because the Amazon Women had an extra at bat where they scored three runs before the game was called due to the time limit. I hate the time limit because it's a disadvantage to the home team. The visitors are almost always guaranteed an extra at-bat, and the Bandits have lost at least two games because of this.

Have you noticed a little change of tone here? It's amazing how much my attitude toward the game has changed over the course of the season. At the start of the season, everyone was cheering for all the girls, but as the season progressed it was obvious how competitive these teams were. Now, we want to see the Bandits crush the opposition. Last night, Diane and I were secretly cursing the Amazon Women under our breaths (and to each other), willing them with our mind-powers to swing at crappy pitches. Yes, we know, we are horrible people.

We could have won this game, or at least have been a little more competitive, if the girls would have duplicated their normal hitting performance. But none of our sluggers were hitting. It seemed like everyone kept striking out. Kailey fell victime to the "K" in her first at bat, but crushed the ball over the shortstop's head into left field on her second and last at bat. She and another runner were left stranded on base as other Bandit batters failed to hit the ball. Defensively, she did well, cleanly handling a ground ball while playing left field and nearly throwing out the runner at first base.

Only three more games before tournament time. Hopefully by then our bats will come back to life.

100 and Counting...Softball & Insanity

Welcome to my 100th post! I'd like to thank the insanity that pervades my life, which has supplied 100 posts-worth of material that is hopefully at least mildly entertaining. Here's looking to 100 more.

The past two weeks have been chock-full of insanity with dog-sitting, SEVEN softball games, and me working nearly thirty hours of overtime. Last week the girls had five games in five days, three of which were makeup games from rain-outs. Kailey played three games, all of which were Blue (Balls) Bandits victories where she got a lot of hits and scored a lot of runs. Kyra and her Purple (Nurple) Pixies played twice. Coverage of Kyra's Pixies has been noticeably absent from my blog for a number of reasons. First, tee-ball is tedious and boring. Most of the girls can't hit, can't field, and can't pay attention. Some of this is mildly amusing, and the girls will get an occasional good hit or make a good play, but we enjoyed it much more when both of the girls were playing in the same tee-ball league. Now that Kailey has moved on to the next level, tee-ball has revealed it's true, bland self.

In Kyra's league, each batter gets four pitches from the coach. If they don't hit the ball in those four pitches, then they bring out the tee, a symbol of shame and defeat. Which brings me to the second reason: until recently, Kyra was underperforming at the plate. I know, I know...this makes me sound like the controlling, ultra-competitive dad who rides his kids mercilessly, but let me assure you that I'm not. I regularly pitch to the girls in the backyard where they both proceed to pound the crap out of the ball. Kailey has been able to translate this to the ballfield while Kyra hadn't. I don't know if it was just game day nerves, but she would just whiff at those four pitches, and then hang her head as the coach moved the tee into position. THEN she'd pound the crap out of it. Her coach could sense her mounting frustration, and in one of her at bats last week, he walked to the plate and took a moment to give her a little pep talk. He held the yellow ball right in front of her nose and said, "Kyra, I KNOW you can hit this ball." And she did...nearly took his head clean off. And about time, too.

Kyra had a game this morning that her coach wasn't able to make. I told him and the assistant coach that I could give a hand if they needed me, and shortly before the game started, she asked me if I would coach third base. Why exactly a third base coach is needed in a tee-ball game is beyond me, but I obliged her nonetheless. I headed out to third base where the extent of my coaching ability was whittled down to a one-word utterance, screamed repeatedly until I was nearly hoarse: "RUN!" Each of the girls I encountered at third base were more interested in just about anything OTHER than running.

"My name is Taylor, what's your name?"

"I have a family...I have a Mommy, a Daddy..."

"There's a big dog!"

"...a brother, a Gramma, a Grampa..."

"Hey look! There's a little dog! He's so cute!'

"...an auntie, and my cousin...they're all over there! Hiiiii!"

"Huggie!"

That was Kyra. She'd run to third base, then give me a hug. She was excited to have me helping out with her team, and I didn't have the heart to tell her there are no huggies in baseball, er, softball. Besides, today she deserved her huggies. She was one of only two girls to get hits off of the pitcher, crushing the ball on three of her four at-bats. She only had to hit off of the tee once. Atta girl. Better late than never.

Game Night...A Hush Descends on the Crowd

Kailey had a whale of a game at the plate tonight, crushing the ball twice and going 2 for 2 with two doubles, 3 RBI (that's "runs batted in" for those living in a cave), and a run scored. Her second double nearly took the coach's head off. She easily could have had a triple on the play, except her league has a three-run per inning rule. Her double drove in two runs and ended the inning. She looked a little rusty on D tonight, bobbling a grounder at third and holding onto the ball too long while playing right field and allowing a run to score. Oh well, she more than made up for it at the plate, accounting for four runs in the Blue (Balls) Bandits 6-4 win.

Obnoxious Mouth Guy? I think he read my blog because he was amazingly calm, courteous and likable tonight, and not an ounce of St. Louis Cardinal paraphernalia adorned his body. Either that or his wife gave him an ultimatum: stop acting like an ass at softball games or never see her naked again. I like to think he read my blog, but whatever keeps the peace.

Game Day

Saturday is game day for Kailey and Kyra, and we were up early for Kailey's 8:00 a.m. softball game followed by Kyra's at 10:00. Of course it would be WAY too convenient for both games to be in the same location, but I'm not complaining (that much) because I was at least able to take in most of both games.

Kailey had a heckuva game in the Blue (balls) Bandits' 2-1 loss to the Red Monkeys...yes, they lost to a bunch of monkeys. The Bandits were up 1-0 in the third inning when the Monkeys caught our second baseman napping with runners on second and third. Both runners scored and the Bandits were not able to make up the defecit. Kailey went 1 for 2 at the plate and scored the lone Blue Bandit run. In her second at bat, she lined a shot right back to the pitcher, who, by sheer luck, stuck out her glove and caught it. BOO. She had no plays on the field, but still paid attention for most of the game, even though there was plenty of dirt to play with. Way to go, Kailey!

I had to leave Kailey's game early to get Kyra to her game, with, of course, a Starbucks run in between. Kyra plays for the Purple (nurples) Pixies. As you can see, our league has a fondness for colors and alliteration when it comes to selecting team names. Kyra had a great game as well, but I have no idea who won the game. She plays on a T-ball team where there are no winners or losers, where everyone hits in an inning, and where, by the end of the game, everyone knows your name because most everyone has had a great laugh watching these little girls learn the ins and outs of softball. It's just plain fun to scream "RUN" at the top of your lungs whenever the kid hits a trickler and then stands there admiring her work. The batter takes off towards first, holding her shorts so they don't end up around her ankles while EVERY SINGLE player on the field flocks to the ball like a pack of wild hyenas on a fresh kill. By the time the ball is thrown the ball to first, the batter has been standing on the base for about ten minutes. The parents then cheer as though the kid just hit a home run or performed a diving, backhanded grab followed by a searing throw to first that barely nabs the runner. But the really cool thing is that the parents cheer for all the kids, regardless of team. We just want to see them all succeed.

Kyra had some good hits off the tee, but even more impressive was her field play. She played the pitcher position in the first inning, and, as you can imagine, most of the hits come that way. She cleanly fielded everything that was hit to, and she followed those up with good throws to first base. She, like Kailey, did a great job of paying attention to the game, with no noticeable bug-chasing, dirt-diving, or nose-picking. Hey, your standards have to start somewhere. Great job, Kyra! I'm proud of my girls and can't wait until the next game day!

Bummed

Kailey's first softball game of the season was this afternoon and I missed it because I had to work. It's times like these that I hate my weird work schedule and the inflexible hours. As the girls get older, it will become increasingly difficult to attend all of their extracurricular activities. And this year has become a little crazier as the girls are now in different age divisions for softball. And so it begins: double the practices and double the games. And it will be this way until they're ready to fly the coop. I just don't want to become the "absent dad"; the dad who missed special events because of work. And I don't want the girls to think that my work is more important than them. It's not. My work is a paycheck, nothing more, nothing less.

Kailey called me after the game and told me all about it. Actually, I had to drag it out of her as I grilled her with a barrage of questions. "What position did you play? Did you catch any pop-ups? Were any grounders hit to you? Did you throw them out? Did you get any hits? Did you win? Did you have fun?" She played right-center field and second base over the course of the game, which warmed my heart because I played second through high school. She had no pop-ups and one grounder, and struck out in one at-bat...we'll work on that...and she didn't know if they won. I love that. Wins and losses will matter one day, but for now, I just want her to learn the game and have fun. She was bummed about the strike-out because, she said, "the girl pitched too fast." Kailey's a good hitter, and she'll make those pitchers pay as soon as she learns to lay off the high heat.

Before we hung up I told her that I loved her and that I was proud of her, and she seemed to be OK with that. Her next game is Monday night and I'll be there, cheering her on and shaking my head as she digs in the dirt and chases butterflies around the outfield. I can't wait.

The Blue WHAT?

Kailey left softball practice last week with an assignment: to brainstorm potential team names that would correspond with their team color, royal blue. They would then gather at the next practice, share their ideas, and take a vote. Kailey's brainstorming took on more of an ethereal bent: Blue Skies, Blue Moon, etc.

The girls huddled at the end of their practice Wednesday night to settle the issue of the team name, and their coach encouraged them to share their ideas.

"Blue Birds!"

"Blue Tigers!"

"Blue Bandits!"

"I know," cried the coach's seven year-old son, a clever young lad, "THE BLUE BALLS!"

After the adults picked themselves up off the ground, the girls took their vote and settled on the Blue Bandits. But we all know what the real, unspoken name of the Blue Bandits is. I can tell you without a doubt what will be going through every parent's head each and every time they hear a "Blue Bandits" cheer:

Gooooooooo BLUE BALLS!!