A Big Time at Little League

It was one of those rare moments in sports when the wind blowing in a cool front was also carrying aloft a slight whiff of magic. The young man at the plate bore a relatively calm expression which belied the obvious tension shown in the muscles tightening and releasing in his arms. There was a fresh pitcher in the game- enough to give any of the players pause. But this young batter had the added pressure of a section of bleachers full of family members in town for the funeral of his grandmother the day before. His evening at the plate had been a struggle thus far; sometimes it seems like stress can just pile on.

When the hard, high fast ball made contact, the sound was unmistakably solid and everyone there knew that gravity was about to get a run for its money. The skyward reach of the Green Monster wasn't even enough to impede the ball's travel.

As it disappeared from view, the stands (and even most of the players) for both teams erupted in wild cheers. Lumps and tears quickly found their respective places in throats and eyes. The emotion of the shock the young player's family had endured that week found a new outlet for some brief, welcome moments. In the closing moments of the game I saw the mothers of the pitcher and batter hugging each other and crying, I saw people rushing to call others and tell them what they had just seen, I saw kids wearing different jerseys who were genuinely happy for each other and I saw one more reason to like little league baseball.

Way to go Austin. I hope the feeling lasts a long time and I hope that Moppy peeled back the veil between her new world and ours to have the best seat in the house to a very special scene and cheered right along with the rest of us.