Alright, y'all, I've got a lot today, and it's diverse, so I expect this'll be, well, less than cohesive.
Our baseball season is off to a pretty good start. We're 3-2, all but one, pretty lopsided. Yesterday's loss was a mostly decent effort against a much better team and the other was a self-imploding fiasco against a team we should have trounced. Kind of nice to get that out of the way. I like the team. We have ten we brought to the party and two the league gave us out of the rec pool. One of those two is younger and not nearly as skilled as the rest of the boys, but he seems to be becoming part of the team's culture and the others are cheering for his small successes even though there's some grumbling among the "staff" every time I bring him into the infield, something I won't do when we get to the playoffs. The other rec player is hard to read and very quiet (like, never speaks). He's no-showed two games, which is a real problem, but he looks to be a great hitter, with a game winning, two out (full count) clutch hit in the last inning of our one close game and a compact swing, quick bat homerun yesterday. I can't complain about that. Between my boys and those brought by our field manager, we have three top of the line catchers (and one serviceable). Two of them catch as well as or better than The Youngest, and both of them probably have better pop times (the throw to second) but The Youngest is our best field general, the most vocal and, by far, calls the best game (best handles the pitchers). Unfortunately, it'll be a while before we let him spend much time behind the plate, 'cause he's walking wounded. One knee is sore (no big deal) and he hurt his right shoulder getting out of the car (getting out of the car!?) but the tetanus shot they gave him in the emergency room after his Thursday night game made it worse.
He was batting in 3rd inning of our 8:00 game when the pitched ball curved deep inside and, as he fell backwards in an effort to get out of the way, struck him on the underside of his nose. He hit the ground squirming, and for a split second I was really scared, but he popped up fast and headed to 1B. Well, there was blood everywhere and the field ump waved him into our dugout, the door of which was only a few feet from 1B (Youngest told me later that he knew he wasn't going to run, but thought he needed to touch 1B before we sent in a pinch runner). Well, his nose was messed up and bleeding from both nostrils as well as a nasty cut on the bridge, that we've come to think must have happened from the inside, out. We got him in a folding chair (that was offered quickly, thanks to a thinking Dad), got his head back and got ice on his rapidly swelling nose. It looked pretty broken. In the meantime, his pinch runner, the previously mentioned youngster on the team, scored a run, as what had been a close game evolved into a rout. Well, we were playing with nine and I was getting ready to ask the opposing coach to give us an outfielder, per league rules, when he insisted on going back into the game. I've caught some shit for it since, particularly from league management, but the fact is that this young man is 19. He weighs a whole lot more than I do. It's way past time for me to think I can make him do or not do something. So I put him in RF. His next time at bat he hit a two run double and we again sent in a pinch runner, the same player, the "last batted out", per the rules. In retrospect, I really should have tried to keep him from batting again until I had a helmet that provides extra face protection. He'd go into the game to play in the field and bat and the rest of the time we had him in the chair, working on his nose. I butterflied the cut before we sent him back out the first time, breaking open the first aid kit I had bought the day before out of concern for us having so many late games. It's not that I worry about big time safety because we can see the fire station over the left field fence, and often the fire fighters hang on their parking lot railing to watch the games, so help is near in case of serious injury, but the concession stand closes about half way through the late game and I try to keep ice and supplies on hand for things like this. The butterfly helped but the cut continued to bleed. We were pretty sure it was broken and I'd never had a broken nose before as a parent or a coach. Folks kept saying there was nothing that could be done for a broken nose. Finally his pediatrician's phone number popped into my head so I called the service and left a message for the on-call nurse. In the meantime, he went back out for his last at bat and cranked the first pitch into the tall pines by the fire station. Both sides went wild. It was pretty dang dramatic. With his uniform splattered with blood, he took his trip around the bases slowly. When the two teams finished the game, walking across the field slapping hands, "good game... good game... good game," one of the players on the other team said, "Man, you're my new idol." The nurse called me back right as the game ended, and we talked as we cleaned up and closed the park. Then we headed for the emergency room, in our separate cars, where they dermabonded the cut and x-rayed the nose, which is broken but not displaced. He looks like he's been in a fight, swollen and colorfully bruised. He's seeing the ENT on Tuesday, but it seems he was lucky. We know he came out of it all with a story to tell his grandchildren, about how he stayed in the game to drive in four runs with a double and a homer, after breaking his nose.
The Oldest has been in New Orleans this weekend for Jazz Fest (The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival), and he's had an amazing time, despite the deluges Friday and the mud they yielded. He says that the food is unimaginably wonderful. I don't know if he has what it takes to play with the pros down there, because, after a long hot day at the Fairgrounds and what sounded like a fabulous private party in Mid-City last night, he crashed before the late night Galactica show at Tipitina's that they had planned. I expect Middle Son made it though. He's been working, in addition to Jazz Festing this weekend, with almost all of his course work done and the end of the semester in sight. He did say that he had to work late Friday night because John Mayer came in for a late supper and stayed and stayed. He also said that he's had two Mayor/Mayer's in the restaurant and they both had huge heads. I'm not namin' the restaurant, but those of y'all who know, well, you know. Cool, huh? Anyway, apparently Loki has Adrastos and Dangerblond both live blogging from the WWOZ tent at the Fest today. Go. Read. Now.
Finally, as so often happens, there's been some interesting discussion after the last post about the U.S. Supreme Court ruling upholding the ban on partial birth abortion, and I'm going to repeat myself here. The point I was trying to make isn't so much about being pro-choice (which I am) but is that this situation is very different from Roe v. Wade and perhaps even more important. If this manner of terminating an unviable pregnancy is rendered illegal, then where is the line drawn? This isn't about "unwanted" pregnancy for me (or at least that's not my point here). Having lost three pregnancies, I am quite certain that how to handle an unviable pregnancy is a matter to be decided between a woman and her doctor. This ruling changes that.
Here's hoping for joy and health and lovin' life this beautiful spring day. Peace, out, y'all.
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