The Little League Season from Hell

This is turning out to be a spectacular Little League season. Here is list of reasons in no particular order:

1. We have a wonderful sponsor...but you know all about them.


2. We have one experienced coach. There are two assistant coaches, me (the village idiot) and another guy.


3. We have one experienced pitcher. This is a problem in Little League because there are all kinds of rules about how much a kid can pitch in one week. The token "stacked" team has eight experienced pitchers.


4. So far there has been a lot of cheating. In the first two games, the stacked team used an illegal bat (a softball bat -- larger sweet spot and larger barrel) and two illegal pitchers (too old). They don't have to cheat against our team to win. They just have show up.


5. We are by far the weakest team in the league. I'll be surprised if we win a single game.


6. The father of one of our players was arrested for downloading child pornography. He's lookin' at 10 years of prison time. The neat part? He's out on bail right now and he likes to show up at the games. That kind of puts a damper our team's cheering section.

Hyperdog

Yesterday I bought a HyperDog. This thing is well worth the money. As the name implies, it's designed to be a dog toy, but I'm not using that way. Are you surprised?Currently, I am the favorite parent. The kids absolutely love this thing. It's capable of launching a tennis ball at an incredible high velocity. Because it doesn't put any spin on the ball, every shot is like a knuckle-ball. As the ball screams along at 600fps, it has a weird random movement. When I first saw it, I couldn't believe my eyes.

My oldest son is delighted. I'm finally able to help him practice his fielding at a level he finds challenging without killing my shoulder. I have to say I was pretty impressed. "Hit me dad" he said as he patted his hand on his chest. "Are you sure?" I said...mostly for liability/insurance reasons. "Yeah. Come on. Hit me." he said as he stood in the ready position. I drew back as far as I could pull and released a line drive to his head. The ball hurled toward him giving him very little time to react. I held my breath, as he unflinchingly gloved the ball threw it back to me. Cool. "Awesome Dad. Hit me again. This time make it a grounder." I could do this all day. "Dad, you could do this all day."

The nice feature: The kids can't use it. Their arms aren't long enough to get any kind of power out of it. Now I don't have to worry that my son will try to hunt his little sister.

Editor's Note: Day four of posting every day. I'm experiencing blurred vision and frequent headaches. Must...keep...going. I can do this.

White Sponsorship : Update #2

It was Opening Day for our local Little League baseball teams. A player from the very first White C****e sponsored team, who is now an upstanding member of White C****e himself, was there to accept a plaque on behalf of the "Men's Club." Why? The league wanted to honor them for lynching minorities sponsoring local Little League teams since the league was established in 1947. Yey. They even let him throw the first pitch. This story will not die.

In related news: A reliable source/friend gave me some information. She actually knew two members of the "Men's Club." She told me that they are in fact white supremacists and enjoy the occasional cross burning.

White Sponsorship : Update

It was field maintenance day for my son's Little League. Lots of the coaches and parents showed up to help get the fields ready for the season. This was the perfect time to investigate further into dealings of the sponsor for my son's team.

I saw two guys having a private discussion. I've seen these guys before. They have been involved with the Little League for at least 7 years. And I was pretty sure they both have lived in this town for their entire lives. Surely they know something.

me:	“So, what's deal with the White C****e club.”
Mr. Defensive:	“What do you mean?”
me:	“I just wanna know more about them. No one seems to know very much.”
Mr. Defensive:	“They're a great sponsor. That's all you need to know. They've been sponsoring local sports programs for like 50 years.”
me:	“Great. So their money is green. What color is their membership?”
me (in my head):	“Nice and subtle. Good job.”
Mr. Scary:	“You wanna know if they're a white supremacy group?”
me (in my head):	“Wow...I wasn't ready to get to the point that quickly.”
me:	“uh...yeah.”
Mr. Defensive:	“Look. It isn't like they are going around lynching people. They may have started that way, but that's not what they are about.”
me:	“OK. I called the borough office and asked about them.”
they both laughed briefly
Mr. Scary:	“What did they say?”
me:	“Hardly anything. Just that they're a men's club. And that they haven't caused any trouble.”
Mr. Defensive:	“See? They are just a men's club.”
me:	“Yes. But I...”
Mr. Scary:	“Look. Let me give you some advice.”
me (in my head):	“Oh great. I love unsolicited advice.”
Mr. Scary:	“If you are ever invited to the White C****e Club, they'll offer you two ashtrays, a white one and a black one. Take the white ashtray.”
me (in my head):	“Cool. I'll just asked one of my racist friends for an invite.”
me:	“...But I don't smoke.”
Mr. Defensive:	“Just take the white ashtray.”
me (in my head):	“Don't say anything. Don't say anything.”
me:	“We couldn't have asked for more beautiful weather today.”

Baseball Reentry

I don't completely understand the sport of baseball, nor am I good with children. So you can imagine my surprise when I was asked to be an assistant coach for my son's Little League baseball team.

At the last practice I was told to operate the artillery pitching machine. I was also told that I should use a speed setting no greater than 6. Yawn.

After the entire team had a chance to bat, I turned the pitching machine around to face the outfield and pointed it toward the sky. The idea was to have the kids catch fly balls. They were excited. I was excited too, because I turned the speed up to 11. The machine made a sound kind of like a jet engine spinning up. Cool.

I dropped the first ball in machine. I've been to a few major league games...I have to tell you...I don't think I've ever seen baseball fly so high. The first kid to field one of these pop-flies wasn't that strong of a player. He was standing in center field waiting patiently for the ball to come down. I was kind of bored by the hang-time so without any thought, I dropped another ball in. I knew immediately that I had made a mistake.

Most of the players knew about the other ball in the air. Unfortunately the kid who was fielding the first ball was completely clueless. I started to get a sinking feeling in my stomach.

The boy was unable to catch the first ball, which is good, because I think it would have blown the webbing out of his glove. He walked around looking for the missed ball. Meanwhile in reality-ville, the rest of the team yelling "Watch out for the second ball! There's a second ball!". I held my breath as I was watched the ball accelerate toward Mr. Oblivious. The screaming seemed to intensify as the ball approached. Just as he bent over to pick up is missed ball, ball #2 hit the ground two feet from where he was standing.

Wow. That was close.

Just as I was about drop another ball in the machine, the head coach unplugged the machine. What a wet blanket.

White Sponsorship

My son received his team assignment for Little League baseball. The team is sponsored by the ¹ club.

I'm a little concerned. I asked around about them, but very few people knew anything about them. One person, the head of the local Little League, said it was a club for white supremacists. Interesting. My son is playing for Hitler's army.

One guy's word isn't good enough for me. So, I checked on the inter-web. Nothing. There is not a single website containing any information about them. That's strange. What kind of business/club would have no information about themselves available in the inter-web?

The next day I called the borough administration office for my home town. I'm not a quitter.

woman #1:	“Borough administration office. How can I help you?”
me:	“Hi. I was wondering if you could help me track down some information about a local business or organization?”
woman #1:	“We sure can. What is the business name?”
me:	“It's the club.”
woman #1:	“...What kind of information were you looking for?”
filter catch:	“Are they a bunch of racists?”
me:	“They're the sponsor of my son's baseball team, and I just want to know a little more about them.”
woman #1:	“I'm sorry. I can't help you with that.”
filter catch:	“No you can't because they'll burn your house down.”
me:	“Is there someone else there I can speak to about this?”
woman #1:	“Just give me a moment. I'll find someone to help you.”
(muffled sounds -- as she holds her hand over the receiver.)
woman #2:	“Sir? You how can I help you?”
filter catch:	“Sure, just act like the first woman told you nothing.”
me:	“I'm looking for any information you might have about the club.”
woman #2:	“They're a service organization sir. They do charitable things for the community.”
filter catch:	“Charitable things like...I don't know...rid our town of minorities?”
me:	“OK. Who's in this club?”
woman #2:	“They have an exclusive membership. You have to be sponsored by a member to become a member.”
filter catch:	“It also helps if you have a shaved head and spider web tattoo on your elbow.”
me:	“Do you have any other information?”
woman #2:	“They're a service organization sir. They do charitable things for the community.”
me:	“Right, you said that already. Do you have any other information?”
woman #2:	“...We haven't had any complaints about them... What were you interested in?”
filter catch:	“No? No complaints about lynchings?”
me:	“Anything. I have a name, an address, and brief generic description of what they do. Can I call them?”
(awkward silence)
woman #2:	“...ah...You...can do that.”
me:	“...OK, thanks for your help.”
woman #2:	“You're welcome.”

Weird.

The uniforms haven't been delivered yet. I wonder if we'll get white hoods instead of hats.

¹ Yes. I'm a total coward and don't like burning crosses on my front lawn. I will say that the name of the club contains the word "White" and the name of a 2D shape with only one edge.

The Little League World Series

I went to the LLWS on Sunday. There were lots of MILFs and hotties (I guess they are LL groupies. Why do 12 year old baseball players ... oh nevermind).

A hotties or MILF (honestly, I couldn't tell) commented on my "somethimes I pee when I laugh" t-shirt:

hottie: I really like your shirt.
me (filter block #1): Really? I like your everything.
me (filter block #2): I like your shirt too. I can clearly see that you still have all twelve of your ribs.
me (filter block #3): Do you realize that chics like you normally just ignore me?
me (looking down at my shoes): thanks.

Close call.

The game was great. The whole experience was like being at a Senators game, except that the field and the players were smaller and the home team won.

In the outfield, there is a small hill that people like sit on. The majority of the people that sit out there bring plastic lawn chairs. The hill is too steep for the chairs to be usable, so they cut about 8 inches off of the rear legs.

What they don't show you on TV: There is hill behind the outfield hill that is about 3 times as big as the first hill, and much more steep. This hill is a playland for the kids "watching" the game. In the first inning, they were rolling down the hill. Shortly after that, the kids started using large pieces of cardboard as sleds. By the third inning they had worn a dirt/mud path. This path was "enhanced" with the bottled water and soda. These kids were achieving incredible speeds. The cardboard that they were using didn't last long, so they just slide "bareback". The scene reminded me of the second Woodstock. It sucks being old and responsible.