It's Fall (ball), Y'all!

This weekend marked a milestone in the life of the Kirk family, and I'm pleased to say the weekend went off without a hitch. As first timers to this new hobby, Coach and I were a little, eh skeptical, about our performance, but fellow participants all gave us big thumbs up and even invited us back for the next big weekend. With only one weekend under our belts, I am proud to say Coach and I are seasoned participants in the world of travel baseball. * Several weeks ago, we (Coach and I, but mostly I) decided that Tucker and Tanner would skip football this season and play fall ball as it's called (collective gasp . . . here!). Yes, the rumor is true. The Kirk boys are NOT playing football this fall. They've traded shoulder pads for bat bags and swapped their chin straps for sunglasses, and I couldn't be happier. For a girl who wrote her Master's thesis on the religious elements of baseball in literature, this feels like home. Every catch my kid makes is poetry in motion, every race around the bases an epic novel. But I digress. We prepared as best we could for a weekend of non-stop tournament play: batting cages, line drives, pop flies, base running, and that was just the boys; packing coolers, chairs, extra chairs for surprise guests, toys for siblings, and tons and tons of snacks and gatorade were on my to-do list. If I were to grade myself, I'd give myself an A-. Sure, there were times when I was one firetruck short for Tate's play crew, or the awesome catch in the outfield by number 4 went unseen b/c of a mistimed bathroom break (I won't make that mistake again), but I rose to the occasion. So far, I like what I see. Not only has #4 made huge strides as a player, but I'm getting the chance to try my hand at something new. I haven't decided yet whether the pressure is worse as a mom in the stands on Saturday or as a wife in the bleachers on Friday night, but I'm willing to continue the research. One thing is sure, though: I don't have to worry about anyone's name in the paper the day after a tournament and that's worth more than a grand slam homerun. Our 11 year old boys are putting on pretty good shows each weekend and seem to be getting better and better with each tournament. So although I wouldn't consider myself a pro yet, I'm working on it. I'm tempted to call "holding" sometimes and refer to innings occasionally as quarters, but I've got plenty of sunscreen in my bag, a light jacket just in case, and a sparkly pink t-shirt that proudly lets everyone know that I am a "BASEBALL MOM." Happy Fall, Y'all!