For the small number of you actually reading this...I'm back.
After flying back to Hutto on the 6th, I spent an extremely uneventful week preparing for a ride to San Antonio for Team RBI's latest tournament.
And it wasn't pretty.
Game 1 - Lost - 8-0.
Game 2 - Lost - 13-2.
Game 3 - Lost - 11-5.
Game 4 - Lost - 5-1.
There's nothing quite like sitting in 100+ degree temperatures getting your ass kicked over and over and over. And over.
The only highpoint of the weekend was the fact that my truck survived the 2-hour drive there and back.
Actually, I need to retract that statement.
The true highlight occured during our Game 3 loss. I caught the opposition's first base coach stealing signs from our catcher and verbally relaying them to the hitters. Oh, the score was already 7-0.
So after our pitcher served up Ball Four to yet another hitter, I walked out to the mound and told our catcher to cover up his legs a little more.
When he asked me why, I pointed over to the 1st base coach and said, "so this jackass stops stealing the signs."
With the coach now looking at me, I leaned over and said, "that's how guys get hit."
If you know anything about baseball, you know exactly what I'm saying.
Unfortunately, the base umpire didn't, and promptly asked me if I was "threatening the other coach."
"No," I said, somewhat calmly. "I just wanted to let him know I know he's relaying signs and that I don't appreciate it. If he's a 'baseball guy', he understands."
Honestly, I really don't care if the guy understood or not.
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Speak softly and carry a big-ass stick
2 comments:
Good story, Doug. I'm not sure who you're coaching now. So tell me. Post it here.
I'm coaching Team RBI.
I work at a place called RBI, hence the name. Basically, the kids "tried out" for the team but because the team was formed so late, it was more first-come, first-serve.
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