As we left the restaurant last night, Cal walked up behind me and with a voice withered by defeat, asked if we could go on a date (this is code for ‘hold hands’). I put my hand out, he laced his fingers in mine and with a weariness no 12-year old should know, he said, “It’s getting really hard to walk onto the field anymore.”
In the 3rd inning we were up 10-0…
There are plenty of excuses I could cite for this team’s 2-7(?) All Star record; some valid, some questionable, none of any importance.
What I do know is: ol’ number 31 is tired.
It ain’t easy to watch your kid lose; it’s crushing to watch him break…
I just saw this, and it broke my heart.