Oh man, one of those days that you dread as a divorced parent. I arrived at his Little League game just before it started to see….no DS2! EX2 had called me earlier in the day to say that he was sending my dad (who works for him!) to get DS2 to the game. Fine, my dad has done that before. But for some reason today he and DS2 screwed up when it came to stopping at Ex2’s house to get his uniform and gear. They grabbed everything except his pants. Little League rules dictate baseball pants. DS2 was supposed to be starting pitcher AND leadoff hitter. The coach was unhappy that he was not there of course and I was MORTIFIED. I start making phone calls when DS2 finally comes running around the corner in tears. Oh man. After some confusion, another mom sweetly offered to run home and get an extra pair of pants that she had. Coach put in a different pitcher and switched DS2 to bat last in the order. The pants arrived just in time for his first turn at bat. But, he was emotionally still shaky and when they put him in to pitch the thrid inning, he had his first bad outing. He couldn’t even get through it, coach had to pull him. Man oh man, my heart. Little guy actually handled things ok. Sure, he pouted, but he recovered ok in time. So I ran this totally up and down between being worried, then mad and frustrated, then heartbroken, then proud of DS2. And then I needed a glass of wine when I got home!!!!!!!!!
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Trees & Flowers & Birds! 
Bina..He will get through this. Love of the game will heal it all. Now a baseball story for you.
In our Babe Ruth league, the team I played on the first year had 1 15 year old, 2 14 year olds and the rest of us were 13. We were picked to finish last. We finished in first, 4 games ahead of the second place team. We won the next year as well.
In the 3rd year, we still had 8 of the players of the original team. My dad was the coach for all of this as well as the president of the league and possesed a true “Irish” temper. Now he new he could not yell at anyone but me, so everyone who made a mistake, I caught it.
Our first game of the year was aginst the team we knew was the only one who could challenge us. Not bragging here, but I was the best player on the team and was normally the catcher, except when pitching. That spring, I worked with a former minor leaguer learning how to throw a knuckle ball. It did not move like a normal knuckle ball, it had a good 5 to 6 inch drop.
We start the game, Inside fastball, fouled off. Curve, low and outside. 1-1. Inside fastball, swing and miss. 1-2. The old man gives me the knuckle ball sign, I throw it. Swing and miss; strike 3…Except the catcher missed the ball. Batter takes off, catcher throws it over the first baseman’s head; runner stil going. Right fielder kicks it, Runner on 3rd. Here comes the manager, red faced and steaming. He is so pissed, he pulls me; which means I must sit 2 innings. We lost that game 5-4 and during my bench time, I missed 2 at bats. We came in second that year. We had the same record as the team in first place, how ever that first game gave them the 2-1 season edge. Now that was 25 years ago and I still give him shit about it. So no issues, we all forget about games from our youth.
Love
Doggie
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