2010 Squirts Flames at Canton
The game was a welcomed break from intense, heavy traffic to get past the routes to and from Boston. The result didn’t favor the visiting team from NH. 2010 Squirts Flames at Canton
The game was a welcomed break from intense, heavy traffic to get past the routes to and from Boston. The result didn’t favor the visiting team from NH. 2010 Squirts Flames at Canton
I have been writing this piece for a few weeks now and it dawned on me recently that my once-rapid pace of putting words to this place had slowed to a mere trickle or re-reading of words already written. I quickly understood why. It’s because somewhere beyond reality I held hope of another game, another picture, another story, another chance to write about this group. Why must it end this way? Why must it end at all?
Last night I awoke from a deep sleep with words spilling from what’s left of the corners of my mind. I laid awake in bed for an hour or two and recited words to myself as I formulated thoughts. This morning I knew I would have some time to sit and put something together. And this, from the perspective of a young boy, with some twenty plus years of adult insight, is what I came up with.Separate Ways
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.
It has been brought to my attention recently that I am not a parent. Not a good parent, or a bad parent, just that I have not been counted as a parent at all.Can I Have Your Attention Please?