An 11 Year Old Boy's Weekend

Saturday morning, at 11 AM, the 'Canes 6th grade Summer basketball team played their championship game against a talented bunch of young men from North Pocono. Though the 'Canes were down by 9 points at one time during the second half, they managed to claw their way back and win the game by 3 points. Of course, the parents made complete asses out of themselves, but the kids on both teams were great.

My grandson, Dat, went right from that game to Bally, Pa, for a baseball tournament. The 11U 'Canes were pitted against 8 other teams like the LV Baseball Academy and the Forks Township Young Gunz. They played twice on Saturday and three times on Sunday. They lost the championship game to the Northeast Titans, who hail from the Poconos. That game did not even start until 9:30 PM on Sunday, and I did not get home until 12:30 AM.

It was a long weekend, made longer by the rain. On Saturday, teams just played through the light rains. But on Sunday, the fields were such a mess that all games were delayed by 3 hours. So when I arrived in Bally at 10 AM, I was the only person there. I walked throughout town, learning that Bally has the oldest Catholic school in the state and more active industry than some bigger LV municipalities.

Right before Dat's game was supposed to start at 1 PM, the Catholic skies opened up and baptized everyone. The fields were a mess and I thought they would just call it a day. Nope. They worked on the fields, had them dry in about 2 hours, and the games finally got underway.

Then it got unbearably hot and sticky. As day turned into night, the heat was replaced by a new enemy. Catholic bugs invaded, taking bits and pieces of us with them, along with a few ball players.

Women who had refused to use the port-a-potties all day began making beelines for the two johns at the far end of right field, where kids had been going all day.

And the games went on.

Then people noticed an unfamiliar smell. The women were convinced it was those johns, but it was fertilizer from a nearby farmer's field. The aroma was a punishment for playing on Sunday.

It also seemed like every game played went into extra innings.

When the championship game finally got underway at 9:30 PM, nobody was sure the lights would stay on. Tournament directors were worried they would just automatically shut off at 10 PM, but players began making the sign of the cross and that seemed to appease the baseball gods.

I wanted to tell you about Friday night's tea party, which was no picnic. I'll give you my report about that later today, after I get some rest.

While I'm konked out, my grandson will be up early to visit the Eagles baseball football camp. From there, he has football practice and is itchy to get involved in a wooden bat baseball tournament in two weeks.

Could you imagine what kids would be like if they drank coffee?