Field of Dreams, Part Two

Last night, I went with Kelsey to the varsity fast-pitch softball game between two local rival high schools. It couldn't have been more exciting (even though the high school my daughter will attend lost the game) with lead changes throughout the game, diving catches and a finish that involved a two-run double that scored the winning run with two outs in the bottom of the last inning. An exciting and joyous celebration for the home team and their fans, and no joy in Mudville for the visitors.

Amid the excitement I saw the girl standing on 2nd base after her at-bat. Foot on the bag, eyes waiting for the ump to call time "officially" ending the game so she could join the celebration at home plate. He did, and she did.

There will come a time, probably in 15 or 20 years, when she tells her kid something like, "You know, when I was a junior in high school, I hit a double against the rival high school with two outs in the bottom of the last inning that won the game and sent us to the playoffs. It was a shot, too. Line drive all the way to the fence."

And the kid likely won't believe it. And she won't be embellishing the story, either. If she needs a witness to prove to her kid that it was a shot and it was clutch and how his/her mom delivered when it counted, she can call me. I'll back her up.

It was a lifetime memory for the kid, one that will make her smile a lot in the future. I'm glad I caught her smile when it happened...because it made me remember a few smiles like that of my own. Baseball will do that.