Thursday, May 15, 2008

Cat's In The Cradle

Before I get into my wonderful trip to Florida, I'm going to talk about my son. Because I am very proud of him. Last night was another in a series of Little League games over the last 4 years. But last night was also the first time that the little shit took the mound and pitched for his team. I can't quite explain how I felt watching him on the mound, fidgeting with his glove, realizing that everyone was watching him and still pitching. I could hear other parents cheering for him, and I could hear the coaches from the other team tell their players to get their fingers out of their noses and watch the new pitcher warm-up, because "this kid's throwing fast." I can't explain how it felt to watch him throw to his first batter and...

Holy shit did he just hit that kid?

Yep.

Long story longer, we played a game last ight and our starting pitcher, to put it mildly, couldn't hit the water if he fell out of a fucking boat. Thanks Kevin Costner! He wasn't helped by our infield either, a usually reliable crew that suddenly morphed into a bunch of ham-handed drunks who couldn't catch Hepatitis from Pam Anderson's sheets. So my son was called in to relieve him with the two on and one out and three runs in. Our league has a mercy rule that only allows five runs an inning, so there wasn't a lot of pressure. He walked the bases loaded, then threw a passed ball to allow a run in. He did try to run in to cover the plate, but tripped and fell on his face. Thankfully, any swears he may have said, (and he knows 'em all), were muffled by the grass. Then he struck a kid out before giving up a final walk after going to 3-2 on the last kid, ending the inning.

We sent him out for the fourth inning. He promptly drilled the first kid in the elbow, resulting in an audible THWACK! sound. The next kid up was the biggest kid on either team. The first pitch knocked him down, coming in high and tight, and I began to wonder if his great uncle had been telling him Bob Gibson stories when I wasn't listening. The kid got back up and swung at the next three pitches while keeping one foot in the dugout. The next two kids grounded out after realizing that they needed to start swinging, because the new kid was throwing strikes.

And that was it. There's a 40 pitch limit on every pitcher, otherwise they can't pitch in the next game. You can go to 75 pitches, but then the kid can't pitch for at least four days and must miss one game, even if it's 6 days away. Little League: Sucking the fun out of baseball for years!

So that was it. He made a couple of nice plays at 3B and at the plate did what he usually does, which is swing and miss, but I was very proud of him. Sentimental even.

I'm going to go kill a hooker tonight so that tomorrow we can get back to the usual deparvity around here.

20 Comments:

Blogger puerileuwaite said...

Congrats to the proud papa. Alas, they grow up way too fast. Stop to blink, and he'll soon (a la Wade Boggs) have a mistress in the stands (sans underwear of course), and a lucrative Hair Club for Men deal.

12:34 PM  
Blogger B.E. Earl said...

Sounds like he owns the inside half of the plate. Old school.

Good for him!

Now he just needs to work on his post-game interview.

12:48 PM  
Blogger Syd said...

I can't imagine how maddening it must be to watch your kid pitch. Sounds like Limpy Jr handled it just fine.

2:02 PM  
Blogger Lil Bit said...

Awww, schweeeeeet! =)

ps. Were the batters he hit lefties? If so, I'd be skeered to step up to the plate. lol ;)

2:03 PM  
Blogger eclectic said...

Those kids were asking for it anyway. ;)

Congrats to your boy!

2:38 PM  
Blogger elizabeth said...

That's awesome. I'll lend him my rifle anyday.

3:50 PM  
Blogger Maggie said...

"Juuuuuuuust a little inside"

Got the Machiavelli Guide Book to Baseball, I see. (Chapter 4: Pitching Through Fear)

Good job!

9:03 PM  
Blogger limpy99 said...

Pug, if he's anything like the old man, he'll have that Hair Club deal a lot sooner than he'd like.

Earl, we don't let him talk to strangers, and nobody's stanger than the press.

Syd, it is beyond maddening. I was literally hunched over with clenched hands the whole time.

LB, the kid he came in high and tight to was a righty. The kid he actually hit was a lefty. So don't dig in.

Eclectic, they really were. Their pitcher had hit one of his good friends on our team just the inning before. Hey, wait a minute!

Elizabeth, yes, that's what he needs, a rifle. Kid can't handle a fishing rod.

Maggie, there's nothing wrong with establishing ownership of the inside corner. Nothing at all.

7:23 AM  
Blogger Cedar said...

Throw it at the MASCOT!!!

I really do like to hear father's tell stories about their sons. You're a good Dad LimpySR.

If this had been a couple weeks ago when he was coming off the mound he could have said : I'm going to Disney World!

10:55 AM  
Blogger Phollower said...

My little brother used to pitch for our high school baseball team. My brother also used to have a few extra pounds around his mid-section. Since I was his older brother I (and my friends) naturally liked to harass him incessantly about it. While he was on the mound we would yell, "We want a pitcher, not a belly."

Tell me you've heard the real chant so I don't look like a total idiot.

6:12 PM  
Blogger Rat In A Cage said...

That's fucking awesome!!! Congratulations. Good thing the mail man must have been an athlete in his youth.

8:41 PM  
Blogger Party Girl said...

Film it, send it in, win a million.

The kid, not killing the hooker.

...and that is the last I am going to acknowledge the hooker comment cause I am not going to be held liable.

10:11 AM  
Blogger Rat In A Cage said...

The United Way realized that it had never received a donation from the city's most successful lawyer. So a United Way volunteer paid the lawyer a visit in his lavish office.

The volunteer opened the meeting by saying, 'Our research shows that even though your annual income is over two million dollars, you don't give a penny to charity. Wouldn't you like to give something back to your community through the United Way?'

The lawyer thinks for a minute and says, 'First, did your research also show you that my mother is dying after a long, painful illness and she has huge medical bills that are far beyond her ability to pay?'

Embarrassed, the United Way rep mumbles, 'Uh..... no, I didn't know that.'

'Secondly,' says the lawyer, 'my brother, a disabled veteran, is blind and confined to a wheelchair and is unable to support his wife and six children.'

The stricken United Way rep begins to stammer an apology, but is cut off again. 'Thirdly, did your research also show you that my sister's husband died in a dreadful car accident, leaving her penniless with a mortgage and three children, one of whom is disabled and another that has learning disabilities requiring an array of private tutors?'

The humiliated United Way rep, completely beaten, says, 'I'm so sorry, I had no idea.'

And the lawyer says, 'So..... if I didn't give any money to them, what makes you think I'd give any to you?'

11:44 AM  
Blogger Rhonda said...

sometimes kids make it all worthwhile.

4:22 PM  
Blogger Lady K said...

Is it really sick that I'm laughing my fool head off right now?

I think it's really GREAT that you're bonding with your son like this. I continue to live vicariously through you!

9:48 PM  
Blogger Lady K said...

P.S. Kill all the Hookers. I mean...lawyers..I mean...aw, hell...

;)

9:52 PM  
Blogger Alkelda the Gleeful said...

A little late on this, but I just took the Cuss-o-Meter test, and it's .04% You're making up the difference for me! I have to laugh, though because that's not the real-life representation. When I started the "inappropriate word jar" after my daughter was born, I put 6 dollars in the jar over a 3 day period.

I thought of you this morning as I was finishing up a blog post. It was the part about setting out beer for the slugs in my garden, and quietly bemoaning how my husband keeps drinking the beer I save for the slugs.

9:32 AM  
Blogger Rat In A Cage said...

REPENT YOU GODLESS HEATHEN!!

9:52 AM  
Blogger tysgirl said...

Hmmmm, I wonder where he learned to throw balls at poor, innocent children?!?!

Congrats to the boy!

6:48 AM  
Blogger limpy99 said...

Cedar, I'll try to start that next 50 soon, but there's at least two posts ahead of it.

Phollower, "itcher". Yes, I've heard it, and it's bastard cousin, "we want a pitcher, not a glass of water"

Rat, actually, my brother's the athlete in the fami...Wait a minute!!

PG, too late, you're an accessory. Look at this way, when we both have to flee south of the border, your visa issues will be a thing of the past.

Rat, heard it, but still makes me laugh. Mostly because I'm pretty sure I worked for that guy.

Rhonda, yes they do.

LK, kill all the hooker-lawyer-robots! Which I think is actually the plot to the "Transformers" sequel.

Alkelda, distract him with a six-pack of that good Northwestern brew, and set out a plate of Schlitz for the slugs.

Rat, that was awesome. Everyone shopuld go over to Rat's and read his sermon. Your soul will be better for it.

Tysgirl, please, if he was aiming for them they'd have been the safest kids in the park.

7:05 AM  

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