The Sandlot

The All-American pastime came to an end last night.  Our two older boys were on the same baseball team - and on a strangely cool and breezy night, the season ended.  It was just about the best time any kid could have hoped for. The players on the team grew together while they were led and guided by a coach and his assistants who were all but saints. 
   One of the neatest things of the season was to watch and see how each of the kids had such different personalities...there was the comedian, the slugger, the shy one, the wild one...all so different but when the boys were in the dugout or on the field, it was something to behold.   
    It really is a timeless tradition.  For decades now there's just something about the crack of the bat and the cheers from the crowd that is undeniable.  The funny thing is - I don't think I'll ever see a professional game from this point on without seeing the grown players as somebody's baby boy not long before.
    When the game was over, the coach gave his final words and we said our good-byes.  I think we all walked away from the field with that bittersweet feeling.  We're already looking forward to next year to get the gang back together again.  It was a great season with an even greater group of kids.