The best thing I can say is, is only lasted three innings.
The view from the press box
Talk about running into a buzzsaw. A team from the Tampa area handed us a 15-3 loss this morning. Scuttlebutt is they were a “traveling” team, whch means they’ve played together a lot, mainly in tournaments. In T-ball. Seriously.
On the bright side, Jamie and Jason turned a nifty double play in the third inning.
We’re at home now, chilling before we need to get back to the field at 12:30 p.m. for a 1:30 game. The kids are OK. “It was 15 to 3,” Jamie told me. “But it’s OK, we have three chances left.” Her smile told me it will, indeed, be OK.
And Jason is too busy playing “The Bigs” baseball game on his Wii to be bummed about losing. He loves baseball. That’s my boy.
We got the first game under our belts. It’s a good thing.
I was thrown a curveball before the game. Since I’m not on the field during the game, I volunteered to keep the scorebook for the team.(Full disclosure here — I am a ScoreGeek. I kept stats for various teams in school and have three different scorekeeping apps on my iPad).
I took our lineup upstairs to the booth … nobody there. I wandered over to the other dugout to get the lineup from the other coach and went back up. A teeneager was there to run the scoreboard but no one from the league, to handle things like protests and keep the “official” book.
This guy sticks his head in the door, looks at me and tells me I have to announce the teams. ME? I don’t think so. Do it now, he’s yelling… So I’m thinking, should I go with Harry Carry or Vin Scully? I do a pretty good Marv Albert, but he doesn’t do baseball. OK, let’s wing it. “Good morning and welcome to Sarasota…”
And then, of course, things go horribly wrong. I can’t read the writing on the other team’s lineup card. It looks like a P or a D and there’s a long last name without a whole out of vowels. “Batting fourth, number 15, Miguel Palll…eghhh….avia. ghhtiieieia….”
Hey, you get what you pay for.