Yesterday was one of those days.
The kids’ schedules overlapped. Ms. Diva had ballet. Mr. Smartypants had a baseball game. Mr. M claimed to be allergic to tutus. He attended the game. I transported Diva.
Midway through the frou-frou princess fairy dance, where Ms. Diva executed a lovely fall-on-your-nose type maneuver (which was impressive as I’d never seen anyone fall down quite so gracefully or frequently,) Mr. Smartypants called blubbering. It was not completely unexpected. Mr. Smartypants was placed on a new team this year. His coach resigned before the season started. Players have dropped from the roster like politicians from the GOP. The team has forfeited as many games as they’ve played and lost. So, each trip to the field is followed by fits of frustration and pleas for ice cream to help heal the deep emotional wounds. (Mr. Smartypants doesn’t like to lose.)
“What’s up, Smartypants?” I asked and braced for the usual “We lost. It’s not fair! My whole team stinks!”
Mr. Smartypants surprised me by saying: “Mom, I was horrible. I stinked. I didn’t even hit the ball once because of some stupid old girls. They were big girls, Mom, and they were waving at me! They got me all messed up! ”
Apparently, while Mr. Smartypants was up-at-bat, three cute teenage girls winked and waved from the stands. According to Mr. M, Smartypants’ face turned bright red. He looked at his shoes, kicked at the dirt, and then he struck out.
“It was bad,” said Mr. M, “The boy tripped over his own bat on the way back to the dugout.”
Mr. M suspects this was an elaborate plot by the opponent to fluster Mr. Smartypants, who is among the few boys on the team who can make contact with the ball. He alleges the girls were planted at the fence to break his batters’ concentration. (Mr. M does not like to lose either.) I tried not to laugh as I assured Mr. Smartypants he’d do better next time. Then, I informed him the girls were watching just because he was so doggone cute. He puffed out his wee chest, pranced around and then asked for ice cream.
Mr. Dad also tells me that Church Hill attorney Mike Faulk was on the field, chatting up the people and distributing flyers for the free “Get a Hit, Stay Fit” K-Mets game on June 29th. Naturally, the buzz on the bleachers was all about Faulk’s possible 2008 run for state senate. In this neck of the woods, it seems to be a foregone conclusion that the incumbent Mike Williams is out – whether by choice or defeat. Most feel there’s little he can do to redeem himself in the eyes of the voters. I don’t think he’ll try. I have serious doubts that Williams intends to seek re-election and think he’s making maneuvers to gain an “appointed” office. Faulk has a good shot. In fact, if he addresses these Little League conspiracies and vows to put an end to the unethical practices employed by various teams to protect rankings in the Pee-Wee and Lil’ Squirt Divisions, he’d be a shoo-in.
Even Mr. M states that he would vote for “Mike Whats-his-Name, You Know, that Baseball Guy.”
So, I asked Mr. M, “Why? You don’t know him or anything about him. He could be a horrible person.”
“Nah. He seems like a nice guy and he does stuff for the kids. I like that.”