Little League

This week I had a great experience. My nephew, Dylan, and his team were in a tournament to determine the North Jersey State Championship in the Babe Ruth U13 league. He lives about an hour away from me, but serendipitously the tournament took place only a few miles from me, so I was able to see about two and a half games, including the championship.

Dylan is 13 and has been baseball mad for ages. His mother, my sister, is a huge baseball fan, going back to her days of loving Bucky Dent. But of her four sons, only the baby, Dylan, shared her love for the game. He's been playing for his team, the Wayne Wolfpack, for several years now.

I managed to see half a game on Saturday, which they won easily. The next day I wasn't able to see the game, in which Dylan was the starting pitcher, which he won. So they advanced to the next round, on Tuesday night. It was a taut game, which the Wolfpack won in the bottom of the 9th (their games only go seven innings) 4-3.

Thursday night was the championship. My sister could hardly contain her anxiety. The team had never gotten this far before, but have been together a long time. They were taking on the defending champs, from the host city South Brunswick. In the bottom of the first the home team scored on a run on a throwing error, and things looked bad for the Wolfpack. But that would be the last run that South Brunswick would score.

But the Wolfpack couldn't get any offense going. Finally, in the fifth inning, my nephew was up (he was playing firs base). He lined a grounder down the first base line, which was booted--safe on an error. Two sacrifices moved him to third, and then a two-out hit scored him. The game would, as the previous game did, go into extra innings.

Both teams had superb pitching (unusual for kids--I remember games from my youth where pitchers would walk in run after run, or errors would make any hit ball an adventure). But these kids knew how to pitch. It was the top of the 11th before the Wolfpack would finally put the game away, scoring four runs with two outs, taking a 5-1 lead. They would retire the side in the bottom of the inning for the win.

I'm in Cooperstown right now, after having attended the Hall of Fame induction (more on that tomorrow) and while here I always get a warm glow about baseball. I also got one while watching my nephews game, because of the way these kids were playing--for the sheer enjoyment of it. Sometimes youth sports can get ugly, when parents behave like ogres, but this was feel-good all the way. I sat with my sister surrounded by other parents, who were nervous. But they recognized how great the game is, and how much fun these kids are having.

I only played one year of little league. I was a terrible player on a terrible team. I was meant to watch baseball, not play it. So it was a lot of fun watching these kids. By the time the tournament was over I knew all their names (there are only ten players on the team--versatility is a must) and was cheering them on as if I'd watched them all year. The excitement on their faces after they won was infectious.

Later this week they head to the Mid-Atlantic Regionals near Atlantic City. I won't be able to go, but I'll be there in spirit. Go Wayne Wolfpack. I hope you win, but above all I hope you have fun.