It’s springtime which means it’s also time for my boyfriend to nervously pace back and forth as his kid plays first base for his little league team.
I think the boyfriend’s kid really likes his team this year, much more than he did last year, which is actually the most important part. And he gets to play for the Red Sox and as luck would have it (and by requesting a size medium t-shirt) he was awarded the coveted #9.
We finally had a chance to attend a game last Friday night and the evening was not without drama. First, the opposing pitcher got hit in the face with a ball. Fortunately for him, it was a ball thrown from his catcher and not a line drive off a bat but it was a scary moment nonetheless. The kid was a tough little guy, too, because he refused to leave the mound.
Then there were a few in-the-park home runs. Defensive ability isn’t exactly a strong point in little league play.
Finally, with the Red Sox down 16-15 in the bottom of the sixth, boyfriend’s kid hit the game-tying RBI with two on base. A questionable phantom tag later and the game ended with a 16-16 tie, or as we say a 16-16 victory for the little Sox. We know who the “real” winner was.
For his efforts, boyfriend’s kid was awarded a Happy Meal from McDonald’s. Well, technically we were going to get him a Happy Meal until he freaked out about us treating him like a child, gave us a 15-minute rant about how he’s not a baby and is too big for a “gay” Happy Meal and how he wanted a Big ‘N Tasty meal instead. With a chocolate shake, of course.