Farm League Fun
I began coaching youth baseball back in the mid-1990’s. Over the years I have had more fun being a part of teams and interacting with parents, coaches, players, and opponents than I could ever recount.
I began coaching youth baseball back in the mid-1990’s. Over the years I have had more fun being a part of teams and interacting with parents, coaches, players, and opponents than I could ever recount.
The media covered it all. Social media has shared it, posted it, messaged about it, commented on it, and talked up one side and down the other about the game. The community showed up. Little leaguers dreamt. Players past and future all ached for a big hit. Students were noticeably immense. Parents glowed, they wished the pain to carry, then they returned from the glorious trip’s end. Coaches planned, paced, and in the end tipped their caps. Town sports. Team sports. Competition. Ultimately, it was all about the kids. As it should be.
Some people run for themselves. Some run because it’s another race on the schedule. Some run for others. Then some run to compete against themselves. Some run to put distance between the present and something…
Numerous folks were looking for information regarding services or a gathering to remember/celebrate Shane. Thanks to family and friends I have the following information to share if anyone needs it or wants it. Thank you for all those who have reached out, and/or shared stories, memories, or thoughts. Please feel free to continue commenting here as Shane’s life can continue to be written and remembered for some time to come. Thank you.
Two years ago this morning, my Dad passed away. To me, the date April 14th has now been redefined forever. As this date neared, and ultimately arrived, I have had many folks share their warm…
So, an innocent conversation with friends last year, about the possibility of having raised garden beds and whether or not they could place one on the side of a hill, turned into a woodworking project that has continued this year. It all started with manufacturing the sides and ends by cutting and combining boards to get walls that were 12″ deep. Then some pilot holes, support for the corners, and a 3 1/2″ lip all the way around (to lean on or sit on), and I had a finished product.
It was three weeks ago now, and in my mind, it went something a little bit like this. As the maestro held his baton high, coercing the grand finale in all of its glory, the final note played. Somewhere between stunned and proud, the maestro bowed his head and turned to face the masses and the feedback they levied on this collective piece of work. And those who witnessed it, they rose in unison to honor the performance and wished it never had to end.