Friday, April 8, 2011

Better Form Than The Cooncracker

The boy pitched the first three innings of last nights game. He did really well. We played Comfort, and they take their baseball fucking serious! He struck a few kids out (one kid was classic two heaters then a change up, dude was three feet in front of the ball when he swung) made a couple of plays at first and gave up no runs. I tell you what, the boy has potential.

6 comments:

Bear said...

Ahh, yes... the changeup. Couple that with a curveball and that's why I hung up my cleats. Couldn't hit either of 'em to save my life.

Of course, it was about that time I went over the 300 mark and decided my fat ass would be better at pancaking d-ends anyway.

I love watching the kids play baseball though, more than any other sport or age group. There's still the heart and youthful joy at that point.

CenTexTim said...

If he takes after his father I'm sure there was a little chin music in there somewhere... :-)

Congrats.

CharlieDelta said...

I used to love pitching when I played Little League. My dad coached my team five years in a row. I definitely got special treatment. I was scrutinized and repremanded more than anyone on the team. When coach made the change to put me on the mound, I would sprint out onto the field. It was exciting striking people out. Especially the kids that were twice my size. Coach would always give his pitchers equal time on the mound. "Ya gotta be fair to the other pitchers", he would always tell me. Really Dad? Even when they suck ass and consistantly give up runs? What fucking planet are you from? Sure, this is fun, but I'm playing to win. Not to sing Kumbeya. You're now putting me in left field? How about First Base? Or Third?

I hated the outfield and my dad knew it, so when he would pull me from the mound, he would put me in the outfield. Anywhere. As long as it was in the outfield. If I showed any signs at all of possibly throwing a fit, or a more subtle throwing of the glove, he would calmly warn me not to. Most of the time my glove went flying across the infield anyway. What did that get me? Benched for the rest of the game and extra laps around the field at practice the following week. Yeah, that was my dad; Coach Hardass!

Good times!

Harper said...

Coach Hardass, huh? And look how you turned out. I guess it worked.

Congrats to the boy, Kerrcarto. Please don't belittle him anymore by mentioning the Cooncracker in the post title.

kerrcarto said...

10-4, Harper!

Claude said...

WOW! Does he ever look good, ready to pitch!