Anyway, on Friday night, Buddy and his posse were at the house for a meal that was odd at its best. Gopher, Angel, Buddy, and his quiet friend Tommy Bradford (from Eight is Enough....he is one of 8 siblings) were ready to chow down on pizza, baked french toast (the big kid's favorite), salad, and bakery sheet cake. If they did not eat all of it, they took it back to the hotel.
On the whole, they were funny and self-deprecating....really nice guys. I enjoyed having them at the house and invited them to come back any time. The very weird moment shared by Buddy and myself was when he started to open a beer. He looked at me and said: "This is strange. I have never had a beer here before. DO you want me to have it?"
Yeah, sure. You're not driving and are 21 years old, enjoy....but he was right. It was odd. Then he proceeded to have a few more. Something tells me that he has been practicing since he turned 21 two weeks ago. At the end of the dinner, the guys took everything back to the hotel to snack on or have for breakfast. Angel shared that pizza was pretty good for breakfast. Yum....
Ok, on to Saturday...Tink was sick and out of the picture so I was on my own. The games were back to back and the weather was typical January...snowy, sleet, and rain. I got to the field before the game and the guys were warming up in the snow. After 15 minutes, the tarp was pulled back onto the field for a delay of two hours. I decided to use this time to become proficient in Word Search on my droid. After the delay, the tarp was off the field again....the players began to chip ice off the pitching mound, sleet was heavier, and the game was called. It was at this point that I had to call the family members who were on their way to the game that the games were postponed until Sunday. All was not lost....we went to Lil A's indoor soccer game. She played goalie in a coed game. I closed my eyes a few times when the balls were pummeled at her. She's a tough cookie. She had ran a 5K with her dad in the morning. Did you know that she is only 10?
Now it is Sunday.....the games were rescheduled for noon. Scooby, cool P., Uncle C., Buttercup, Cupcake, Tink, dad, and Big B stopped by to watch the frigid polar bear games. I had given Buddy two cases of hand warmers for Christmas. By the start of the game, they were gone. The guys dove into his bag and took them. So, he was out and now diving into my bag of spares. Believe me, we need hand, feet, body, and field warmers....it was COLD!
The game began and the team just cannot hit. They either need their eyes checked or a remedial on hitting off speed pitches 101. However, let's be honest. No one wants to pop up or strike out. It is a matter of timing and that comes with more repetitions.
The game continues and the team's starter starts to run low on stamina. who is called in from the bull pen? Yes! It's the big kid who is full from eating at home over the weekend and whose hands are toasty from taking my hand warmers. He is throwing in the bp and Uncle C and Scooby and I stand and watch while I snap photos. Then I get nervous....time to pray...send good thoughts...stay cool. He knows what to do.
Inning 1: line drive to out fielder (out), Strike out, pop up. Inning over!
His right handed reliever came in. The ball was hit sharply at the first baseman, who touched it with his glove but could not field it. In my eyes, it was an error, but the scorer called it a hit. Buddy's ERA of zero has a run attached to it. The team loses both games...it was ugly.
Some miscellaneous items:
The pitching coach walks up to Buddy sitting in the dugout and expels gas in his face. His comment was: "Now I have moved from number 7 to number 2 on your hit list, a.XX hole." Nice, huh? Angel commented that he needed to write his memoirs because no one would believe it and he has a 'sick life.'
LW pitched in the second game after returning from a broken hand that he sustained in a bar fight. He was told on the bus that he was now the Sunday starter...that was a quick decision....
The catcher was removed from the game when he flipped his hat after striking out. Apparently, this bad behavior is not tolerated, yet a coach can fart in the face of a pitcher and get away with it.