My Tiny Kingdom
Home About Contact Blogs I Adore

Archive for the 'Baseball' Category

July 9, 2008

Itchy Packages and Other Ballpark Tales

Genital matters have come to the forefront in the barracks at Cooperstown. The coaches realized that they had more than baseball to deal with yesterday when several players complained that they were itchy underneath their baseball pants. It’s no wonder; they wear sliding shorts and play in the hot sun, then head to the barracks and trade pins and eat lunch before they shower.

They’re required to wear their bathing suits in community showers, and apparently the lack of privacy and nudity has hampered their bathing efforts. The buildup of dust and sweat in such a tender area has resulted in a condition that Bill bluntly calls “crotch rot.” Regardless of its true name, once a couple of players contracted it, the disease became a badge of honor. It’s become widespread, so although some of our guys are walking a bit gingerly, they’re holding their heads high. We’re hopeful that the tutorial on scrotal cleansing and the ointment our team doctor has administered will lick the problem.

Tuesday morning we played the North Carolina Riptide. Before the game we were warned that the Riptide had a “troublesome parent” among their fans, who would be escorted away by security if he had another outburst. This was heartening, as we had missed the holiday fireworks due to baseball, and we felt we deserved some. We spent the game leaving men on base at the end of each inning and scanning the opposing team’s fans for the offender. Could it be the man in the red polo? The one in the orange and white T-shirt? Sadly, we lost the game, the fan behaved himself and we left the game feeling we’d lost twice.

Losing doesn’t affect the spirit of our cheering section, which appears to be one of the strongest at the park. We haven’t seen another team sing the ESPN theme in harmony, act out a riptide, namecheck the players in order, or yell, “Let’s get up in their kitchen, Blaze!” or “Tag the bag!” with such fervor. We’ve recently added “Shake and Bake!” to the repertoire, which hasn’t helped the team but cracks up the stands.

Tuesday afternoon we were surprised when West Pines Florida’s high school football team showed up in baseball uniforms ready to play. The Guinness Book of World Records needs to head down there when updating its entry for “World’s Largest 12-year-old,” as the team had fourteen contenders. Finn pitched and I tried yelling, “Give ‘em your easy greasy, baby!” but he shook me off, and I reverted to more traditional forms of encouragement.

If you’re organizing a baseball team, it helps to have a parent who owns two gourmet restaurants with you. After three days of pizza and chicken fingers, parents and players were getting grumpy. We gathered at a house and worshipped at the chef’s altar as he directed the preparation of grilled chicken and flank steak, guacamole, Greek salad, and four cheese macaroni. Our able bartender Ephraim (his choice of pseudonym) continued his winning streak, serving beer, wine, and exotic mixed drinks.

Although we thought this was going to be a family vacation, I haven’t spent much time with Bill at all, as he’s staying in the barracks with the team. We’ve resorted to kissing through the fence at the start of each game. The cookout gave us time to sit down together and talk. That’s when I learned about the itch. I also found that this is many of the boys’ first experience dressing and undressing in front of others. Bill said he stripped down the other night while our pitcher looked on and said, “That just don’t bother you none at all, does it? “

I also discovered that the Cooperstown laundry service, while highly praised, hasn’t been so dependable for our team. The Blaze has sent off the correct number of uniforms but received only partials back, and Bill’s underwear is AWOL in the Park, rather than on his derriere.

We appreciate all your well wishes. Our team isn’t nearly the best here, but we’re set on having the best time of any group, and so far we’re succeeding.

Posted by Anne Glamore @ 5:31 pmBaseball,Frolic and Detour: Sports,Wanderlust: Travel Tales15 comments  

July 7, 2008

Cooperstown Dreams (And Nightmares)

Sadly, I write this missive from the Cooperstown Dreams Park infirmary where Finn is being treated for dehydration. He’s sleeping well, and this isn’t the first time I’ve posted from a medical facility.

The Birmingham Blaze has made it to the birthplace of baseball, and we’ve already survived checking into the Cooperstown Dreams Park with 97 other teams, (chaotic lines of traffic, tired travelers; nightmare), the opening ceremony, (captive audience forced to listen to unknown cheesy songs and facts about baseball for three hours before the baseball teams appeared; nightmare), and two baseball games.  We won one and lost one, but counted both as wins.  We lost the second game by only 11 runs and went all six innings, while the team that played them earlier lost 33-0 in three innings.

All of the players and coaches are staying in barracks within the park, and the families are staying around Cooperstown.  “Around Cooperstown” should be defined broadly in the Glamore’s case, as our “resort” (more about which later) is certainly closer to Canada than Cooperstown.  The “resort’s” website led me to believe that it was located much closer than it is, but that will be a different post altogether.

This is the first time that all the Blaze families have been forced to hang out together for an extended period of time, and I’m happy to report that so far there have been no fisticuffs.  It’s not all rainbows and butterflies on every team, however, including one from Michigan.  Word is that their coaches are fighting with each other, one parent has told another that her kid sucks at baseball, and a player got thrown out of a game for unsportsmanlike conduct.

In contrast, the Blaze fans are coming together like Jello. Our appointed Social Chairman has a well-stocked bar at the HoJo, where we report each evening for a nightcap and to rehash the day’s events. Our photographer bravely ventures over to the other team’s stands each game, so that the Blaze is photographed from every possible angle. As a bonus, she then reports on our opponent’s state of mind, and whether they are well-mannered or sending jeers and cusses our way.

Several Blaze families have high school kids, and they make up the bulk of our cheering section. When we’re not at games, “the big kids” hang out together and play a variety of intricate card games. Drew hovers at the periphery of the group, soaking in the rules like oxygen, so that he’ll be prepared the next time the cards are dealt. His highest goal for the week is to join the card game and prove himself worthy of the club.

Drew particularly idolizes one boy, a six foot two specimen named Scott. Drew shadows him, laughs hysterically at his jokes, and watches him adoringly as he goes through life in a body three times as big as Drew’s. We’re planning on a rip-roaring game of mini-golf this afternoon, and Drew is determined to be Scott’s partner. If it’s not clear by the end of the week that “the big kids” refers to the actual big kids AND Drew, it won’t be because of lack of effort on Drew’s part.

Porter, who is completely oblivious to the big kids’ innate coolness, is unknowingly foiling Drew’s plan, and Drew is growing increasingly frustrated with him. Porter acts like an inquisitive nine-year-old, which he is, while it’s obvious to Drew that mature behavior is required to hang with the big kid club. Drew is linked with Porter by blood and twinhood, but he’s resentful that Porter is spoiling his mojo.

I‘ve received word that this morning’s game was a loss (I spent the last three innings in the infirmary) and that Finn will be needed against the team we play next. That game is in a couple of hours, so his recovery will need to be mental as well as physical, and I’m better than Bill at the former.

Update: Finn is recovering nicely, so we’re off to prepare for more baseball.

******************

One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Where’d This Cooking Blog Come From?

Posted by Anne Glamore @ 1:46 pmBaseball,Boys: Demented & Dangerous,Frolic and Detour: Sports15 comments  

April 3, 2008

Scenes From The Ballpark

baseball

I found myself watching Finn’s baseball game solo for the first three innings last night. Bill was with Drew and Porter at soccer practice.

This year I’ve been running about ten minutes late to every game, and that is no big deal unless your son is the starting pitcher. I’ve had no reason to believe Finn would ever fall into that category, but he did tonight and I was damn glad I was there to witness it, as he hasn’t pitched a lot in the past.

Bill and the duo arrived around the fourth inning. Bill wanted to know Finn’s stats, and telling him that he had done well so far wasn’t going to satisfy him. He wants to hear ESPNy words like, “He hit a stand up double to right field, stole third, and came home on Bert’s single.”

Finn hasn’t pitched enough for me to have my pitch-patter perfected yet, so I said, “He struck out Jay and Justin, he walked Peter, someone balked, he made a nice toss to get Lewis out at first, and he hit Bainbridge in the fanny on a 3-2 count.” I thought that was a fabulous report, but later I saw Bill up in the press box looking at Finn’s stats in the book. Maybe he thought I made up the part about Finn nailing the batter in the ass.

Although I had fed everyone before we hit the fields, twinsanity were hungry and restless. I’ve taken a stand against ball park food this season, and against junk food in particular.

We were sitting at the other team’s bleachers where I’d been chatting (baseball games are the core of my social life here in the Tiny Kingdom) and no one heard Drew ask me if he could get some Skittles at the concession stand. Everyone, however, heard me tell him that NO, he could ask me every night from now until the end of the world if he could get Skittles and I would always say no. Then they watched his face crumple and the tears fall down his cheeks and I won the award for Best Ballpark Mom Ever, right on the spot.

baseball2

Enough with the paparazzi. I got a game to play.

*****************

Two Years Ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Nurse Anne Reflects On African Toilets

Posted by Anne Glamore @ 9:46 pmBaseball,Frolic and Detour: Sports10 comments  

April 1, 2008

I Can’t Shut Up About Snacks

You would think that everyone would have STOPPED the sports-related snack madness, but they haven’t. My third graders’ soccer team is STILL having after-game snacks. Nothing like Oreos at 10 am.

At least I’m not on my friend’s 4k T-ball team. They practice TWICE A WEEK from 4:30 to 5:30 pm and the team mom has commanded “healthy” snacks for each practice.  Not games, PRACTICES.  Who needs that kind of extra work, or food?

I don’t care if they’re shooting wheat grass
wheat

and chomping alfalfa sprouts;
alfalfa
I don’t want my kids doing it right before dinner twice a week.  Nor do I want to have to provide it.

Don’t EVEN get me started on the ridiculousness of kindergarteners practicing twice a week and having a game on Saturday. It’s nuts.

It occurred to me that’s part of the reason everyone’s so over scheduled. When we were growing up, ballet was once a week. Now an activity is two or three times a week.  That’s fine for a sixth-grader like Finn, who’s deep into the “learning to manage your time” lesson, but it’s ridiculous for six-year-olds.

We need to take it down a notch!

That will never happen in the Tiny Kingdom, at least with sports.

******************

One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: How An Eight-Year-Old Views The World

Posted by Anne Glamore @ 8:40 amBaseball,Deep Thoughts,Feeling Crotchety,Frolic and Detour: Sports20 comments  

July 8, 2005

Baseball Diaries: The Heat Is On

It is getting hot here in the Tiny Kingdom, literally and figuratively. As the temperatures have hit the 90’s, baseball practices have become more intense as the tournament approaches. The team has played many “practice games” (which are practice only in the sense that they are not part of the final tournament. Everyone still keeps score, tears are shed and uniforms are dirtied.)

Our team is hosting the tournament this year, which is nice because it means we play on our own fields and don’t have to travel through rush hour for a 6 pm game. Despite the fact that we will be in familiar surroundings, I know that a lot of the parents who are new to Allstars are not prepared for the craziness of the tournament itself. If they think that Coach Rob is hard core, they are going to flip when they see some of the other teams, so I sent out fair warning.

*************************************************************************

To: Allstar Team
From: Anne

The tournament is about to start, and I have some last minute details. You already have our schedule for the next few days. Coach Rob wants each player to arrive one hour before game time for 30 minutes of batting practice and 30 minutes of fielding.

1. Etiquette

Please remember that we are the hosts of this tournament. Many people outside the Tiny Kingdom think that those of us who live here are snobby. Let’s dispel this notion. Smile, don’t snarl. If someone looks lost, stop and offer assistance. Be polite. If you really are snobby, please keep your remarks to others to a minimum.

2. Decor

Traditionally the dugout is decorated in some manner. I KNOW the other teams will be decorating their dugouts, based on last year’s behavior. Do not be surprised if other teams show up in identical Tshirts or mount a ten foot long plastic poster with each player’s caricature on it. Do not judge a team’s baseball skills on its supporters’ ability to decorate.

If anyone is feeling arty or balloonish or has a fab idea for a poster (and the materials to make that dream a reality) please email me. My goal is not to create award winning decorations; it is simply to make sure our dugout is not buck naked each game.

3. Equipment Alert

You don’t need to purchase anything else; I just thought you ought to be prepared for the fact that many other teams also go WAY OUT on their equipment. For some teams, it is no big deal for each kid to have his OWN batting helmet. WARNING: often these helmets are airbrushed with lightning bolts or balls of fire and other macho symbols.

If this is going to psych out your player, you have three days to get your own airbrushed helmet. Don’t ask me where; check the yellow pages.

I do have a couple of design ideas: “TCB” with green lightning bolt (make sure you match the green in our uniforms!), nuclear bomb blast with “ANNIHILATION” in Gothic letters, American flag with”America’s Best,” big red heart with “I Luv My Momma” on a banner held up by angels underneath the heart.

4. Anger Management

While the kids have behaved beautifully thus far, I cannot say the same for all the parents. Things are likely to get even more tense under tournament conditions.

You may think we take this game way too seriously given our players’ relative youth. Let me assure you that our team is quite laid back compared to some of the coaches and parents you will see over the next few days. Please realize that each team is different and do not be judgmental.

Thus, if we are able to get an opposing player out, do not flinch if his coach storms onto the field and drags him off by the collar, muttering obscenities under his breath. Similarly, if we happen to beat another team and you are the unfortunate witness of a mother berating her athlete for playing like a girl and then denying him money to go to the concession stand, do not interfere. This is how other people “play baseball.” They keep coming back every year, so they must enjoy it.

5. Conclusion

Go Team!

Anne

Posted by Anne Glamore @ 2:12 pmBaseball,Frolic and Detour: Sports3 comments  


Welcome to the Kingdom

Copy of Watkins2 032
I'm Anne Glamore, wife, mother, lawyer and blogger. I have three boys, and I'm desperately trying to train them to become Southern gentlemen, but that may be an unrealistic goal. At this point I'd be ecstatic if they'd quit farting at the dinner table. If you're new here, check out the Readers' Favorite Posts below or browse through the Categories. I write about my attempts to teach the boys about peckers and sex (which we call "making googly eyes"), my struggles with hepatitis C and spine surgery, the boys' adventures with fire and pets, my mom's death from ovarian cancer, my love of cooking (with plenty of recipes) and anything else that crosses my mind. Join me on Twitter or StumbleUpon or Email me. I'm happy to speak to your group or club.

Recent Posts

Subscribe

Categories

































































Meta

Credits:

Designed by Karen at Swank

Powered by

Readers' Favorite Posts