Play Ball Anyway

Wednesday already feels heavier than it should.

Monday night, David’s baseball season ended.

Again.

This kid has been through so much this year around baseball that, honestly, it’s starting to break me a little.

Earlier this year he was cut from his school baseball team and told he needed at least another year of rec league before he’d be ready.

He took that hard.

But he kept showing up anyway.

Kept practicing.

Kept playing.

Kept loving the game.

Which is why watching this season get taken away the way it did hit so differently.

A meeting was held with the commissioner Monday night. County decision.

One coach from another team had an altercation with a coach from the other county that our teams have been playing all season. Instead of dealing with the individuals involved, our county decided to cut ties completely.

All remaining games against the other county, canceled.

Every team affected.

For most teams, that meant losing one or two games over the final few weeks.

For David’s team?

That was the season.

See, our county, and I say “our” because it’s the county we play for, not the one we live in, decided at the beginning of the season to cut every waitlist player from the 13U division.

Ten kids cut.

One team formed.

Important point is that you only need 11 to make a team, 9 to play.

The explanation was something about needing to get shirts and hats ordered.

Which is especially frustrating considering some teams are still waiting on shirts and hats for pictures.

Because there was only one team, the season only worked because the other county agreed to essentially split travel and home games 50/50.

Thankfully, our coach and their coach go way back.

It worked.

The boys got to play.

Until now.

So officially?

Season over.

But this is also exactly why we drive as far as we do for this coach.

Yesterday morning, a message came through:

“Unofficial practice. 6 PM. Come dressed for a game.”

And they came.

Not just most of David’s team.

Kids from the waitlist that got cut.

Siblings.

Players who aged out last year.

Parents.

Everybody.

What followed was one of the best baseball experiences I’ve seen in years.

An 11 vs. 13 coached scrimmage that went four innings.

Not rushed.

Not squeezed into an hour and fifteen minutes.

Actual baseball.

Coach behind the plate acting as umpire, teaching as the game moved.

Another coach behind the pitcher, helping with positioning and decisions.

A coach in the outfield working with the kids on angles, placement, throws, awareness.

And the kids?

They had fun.

Real fun.

Laughter.

Light trash talk.

Cheers from both sides.

Parents laughing in the stands.

Coaches coaching.

Kids learning.

People just… playing baseball.

It took me right back to my own rec league days.

Before everything became schedules, politics, and surviving the clock.

This felt like what little league is supposed to be.

And then came even better news.

The coach told us we’d been invited to still play the next two scheduled games against the other county.

Just need to sign a waiver.

Immediately, parents started offering carpools.

Figuring it out.

Making it work.

So officially?

Season over.

Unofficially?

Play ball.

Jacob was supposed to have a game Monday night too.

But by the afternoon, signs of an ear infection started showing up.

By evening he was down hard.

Pain. Fever. Tears on and off.

Yesterday, Asher followed right behind him.

Youngest two boys on the couch together.

Blankets.

TV on.

Trying to sleep through feeling miserable.

It’s bad enough that I may end up taking time off work today just to get everybody to the doctor.

Jacob’s supposed to play tonight.

We honestly won’t know until much later today if he’ll be able to.

And somehow…

Today is also my birthday.

I haven’t really celebrated birthdays since I was 13.

A couple small exceptions at 16 and 18, but otherwise it’s always just felt like another day.

I usually ignore the cards until the next day.

Don’t answer most messages.

Sometimes I turn my phone off completely.

Over the last few years, though, I’ve softened a little.

Mostly because Zoey loves making birthday cakes.

And honestly?

Seeing one of my boys play baseball tonight while eating cake my daughter made…

That sounds like a pretty good birthday to me.

We’ll see what today brings.

Nothing about work today.

Not because there isn’t a lot happening.

There always is.

But the last couple days have taken a lot out of me.

And right now?

Family first.

There’s a difference between organizations and communities. Organizations protect rules, structures, and processes. Communities protect people. This week I watched adults make decisions that took something away from kids, and then watched other adults immediately step forward to give something back. That part matters. Maybe more than the games themselves. Because long after the scores are forgotten, kids remember who fought to keep the joy alive.

This is a grounded moment where the rules may change, but the important things keep going anyway.

Much love. Stay safe. Wash your damn hands. I’ll see you Friday.