PKs score big with short team

Our loyal readers will no doubt be thrilled to know that last night the Promise Keepers won both games of their double header, wrapping up the final one at about 11:00 PM.  Team Roberts was there to cheer our guys on, and as usual, Yours Truly shouted herself hoarse.

Four of our regulars were gone (John – RC, Max – 1B/P, Jerod – LC, Dave – 1B), and another regular (Les – C) had to leave after the first game.  However, Jeremiah and Ryan stepped in to play outfield and second base, respectively, and with only nine guys, we stomped both other teams.

Jeremiah did take a hard tumble resulting in a twisted ankle, so, unable to run, he moved to catcher and the other gents rotated around.  There were several nice slides in to second and a number of great defensive plays on the base paths.  Several home runs were hit over the fence, and My Hero managed a two-run homer inside the park! Justin completed a lovely diving catch with body roll in left field, and Ryan caught the fly ball that ended the second game.

Congratulations to all the Promise Keepers on two jobs well done!

Promise Keepers skunk Tri-Lakes Church, but lose to The River in championship game

It was an interesting softball season.  There were about 12 teams in the church league this year, but only three of them were really competitive:  Promise Keepers (undefeated in the regular season), Church Army (rowdy guys, good players), and The River (arguably the best team of The Three, although we beat them in the season, narrowly and with great effort).

Last night was the second round of the post-season tournament.  Our guys faced Tri-Lakes Church for the semi-final game at 6:30 PM, in searing sun and blistering 95-degree heat.  We scored nine runs in the first inning, and despite their very impressive four-or-five run rally later in the game, Tri-Lakes never had a chance.

The tables were turned in the 8:30 PM championship game.  Thankfully the sun was down and we enjoyed the occasional slight breeze, but that is about all that went well for Our Heroes.  The River’s first batter hit the first pitch to just inside the left field fence, and while our guys fumbled getting the ball in, he managed to make it all the way home.  Not too encouraging.

Our worthy opponents scored a total of 11 runs in the first inning, and I think when the dust finally settled and the game was called, the final score was something like 14 to 3.  Our guys actually played pretty well for most of that game, but last night The River was clearly the better team.

No regrets, and I’m sure fall ball will be starting up in a few weeks.

Promise Keepers Upset The River

Yes, sports fans, all eyes were (or should have been) on Kiewit Field at Stockstill Park tonight at 6:30.  Off to a slow start, their initially lackluster fielding and non-existent offense quickly had the Promise Keepers down 7-0.

Of course, part of their poor performance early on could be attributed to the absence of regulars Max at 1st base and Jerod in left center.  Mark from the outfield was playing 2nd, Nathan had come from Springfield to cover for Jerod, the mouthy husband of a Country Mart employee(?) was playing 1st, and Dave was sitting out the first inning, because we had too many players.  = (

However, with the strong support of a their larger-than-life cheering section – eventually including Cinda, Trena, the CM husband’s extended family, five Duncans, four Browns, John’s wife and two sons (the newborn son was sleeping and so is not included in this count), six Madrigals, and five Roberts’ – the Promise Keepers rallied, holding the River to only one additional run, while gradually piling up eight of their own.

Then, at a true crisis point of the game, our noble 3rd baseman was called out on strikes and left the plate looking decidedly dejected.  But not to worry; shortly thereafter, Hero-of-the Night Dave got on base with a nice hit and subsequently scored the winning run!!!

And the crowd went wild.

It’s over

Please don’t anyone tell Scott how relieved I am that baseball season is officially over for Team Roberts.  We’ve had plenty of late nights, which don’t affect my husband, but do affect my son and me.   I am sorry that the Red Sox didn’t make it to the World Series, buy hey, I was also sorry that the Cardinals didn’t make it to the play-offs.  I am a loyal wife and a loyal fan, and I’m so very thankful that our lives can now return to some semblance of normal.

21 to 8

This fall ball season has consistently featured games that are not the least bit close.  We were completely wiped out in the season opener, and sadly, the same was true tonight.  However, for the past three weeks, we have run-ruled our opponents.

We faithful fans have found these games much less fun to watch that the church league ones in the summer.  We like a close competition, not a runaway.  The team that beat us tonight was First Baptist White.  We (the Promise Keepers) made a LOT of errors in the field, but even without all those, I am not sure that we would have won.  Their team was a hitting machine, and their outfielders caught all our flies.

We were also missing John, and personally, I am not too terribly impressed with Danny, who’s been playing right center.  Also, we’re missing Troy, who’s out the rest of the season with a knee problem.  Usually Max pitches for him, with John and first, but tonight Josh (mgr of Montana Mike’s) pitched.

We started with:

LF – Mark

L/C – Jerod

R/C – Danny

RF – Les

1B – Max

2B – Tony

3B – Scott

SS – Kevin

C – Monty

But Mark kept dropping them in left, so he was moved to 2nd.  Tony went to left, and that scenario was not pleasant.  Tony tended to let them go over his head, while Mark didn’t respond quite quickly enough in the infield.

One positive thing:  after I gave them a talking to last week about the team’s tendency to hit a fly ball and look at it rather than run, they did seems to run more this week.  In any case, the faithful few were there to cheer them on (to defeat); Cinda, Andrew, and me.

Truth Prevails!

Last night, Scott’s softball team, the Promise Keepers, played at 6:30 PM, winning their second game in the post-season tournament.  This meant they would play again in the championship game at 8:30, against either The River (2nd best team in the league)  or The Sanctuary (3rd best team in the league).

Well, The Sanctuary unexpectedly beat The River, so The Sanctuary it would be.  Now we had played them twice in the regular season and won both times, although it was more difficult than I had anticipated.  In past years, The Sanctuary has been a good solid team, but not outstanding.  This year, they seemed to have some new guys that were AWESOME sluggers, so it was a struggle.  But we had done it.

Now, in the championship game, we had met our match.  They went out 3-0 in the first inning, but we tied it up.  We held them and a couple innings later were leading 5-4, but then all h*ll broke loose.  Meanwhile, I was sitting talking with our team manager’s wife, and she told me that in the second inning (after he’d seen all their hitters) he’d gone to the umpire to complain that some of The Sanctuary’s players had been added on late in the season and therefore were not allowed to play in the post-season tournament.

The deal is this in the church league:  you can add players to your roster throughout the season, but if they have been added after the mid-point of the season, they are not allowed to play in the tournament.  Kevin thought four of their guys were “illegal.”  The umpire listened to his appeal and said nothing.

A little later the RecPlex lady who is in charge of the adult softball program showed up.  She was coming with the (massive) trophy, which she would award to the winner of the game.  Kevin talked to her, also, and she said something like, “well, there’s not much we can do. . “  Kevin was steamed.

Our fielding went to pot, and their sluggers continued to pound the ball just past our outfielders, sometimes bouncing them over the fence.  The whole thing was sickening.  I don’t remember all the exact scores, so these numbers may be off a bit, but we did manage a bit of a rally in the sixth, pulling to within about 7 of them (we had been down 17-5 and risked having the game called), but they just blew us away, and the final score was The Sanctuary 27, Promise Keepers 11.  Yuck.

However, Hank, the umpire called for both managers out at the pitcher’s mound, and Scott, who defaults to leadership at all times, joined them.  Hank told them that there had been an appeal, that it would be investigated, and that the winner would not be announced that night.  It was almost 10:00 PM at that point, and tempers were high, but both teams managed to hold themselves in check.  It’d be extra bad to lose it in the CHURCH league!

We went home.

This afternoon, Scott called Parks and Rec and learned that the Promise Keepers had won the tournament(!) because the other team had had four illegal players.  So I guess the trophy will be ours, soon to be proudly on display at Country Mart, where Kevin and number of the guys work.

The sad thing is that the manager of The Sanctuary is a personal friend of ours.  We are choosing to believe that he just hadn’t read the fine print on the rules and regulations, that he’d missed the beginning of the season coaches meeting where all that stuff was explained in great detail, and that he was just not aware that 40% of his players were “illegal.”

Scott had called him this morning – before learning of the outcome – to make sure there were no hard feelings.  As he told our friend, “Softball’s not worth trouble between the two of us.”  We think all is well there, and even though we lost by a landslide, we’re really glad that truth prevailed!

No softball this week. Boo hoo.

Every summer and fall, Scott plays softball in a church league on Thursday nights.  The 12-week summer league games usually starts in late April, and the 18-week fall ball season runs mid-August to mid-October.  This year has been an exception, because all the rains of spring caused severe flooding at the ball park (Stockstill).

We’ve been waiting week after week after week for Parks and Rec to repair the fields and get things ready to go.  This week was FINALLY the week we had all been waiting for!

Now, Team Roberts has certain traditions associated with Scott’s ball games.  For one thing, we always go in two cars – mostly because it keeps peace in the marriage.  = )  I always take my bag chair (I think now they are known as “quad chairs”) and a bottle of ice water.  Andrew always brings his bike.  Sometimes Josiah brings his, too.  Jessica usually brings her roller blades.  Katie brings nothing, but she keep score for our team, the Promise Keepers.

So yesterday, we spent the day watching the weather and eagerly getting ready for the season opener.  Josiah was kind enough to put my chair in the van and mount the bike rack.  Scott emailed me from work to make sure it hadn’t rained here.  Supper was ready early and would be easy to clean up.  The game would start at 7:30.

Then around 4:30, Kevin called.  He’s the team captain.  The RecPlex had just called him to say that the opposing team had somehow not known (?!?!?!) they were playing tonight, couldn’t get their team together on short notice, and would have to forfeit.  There would be no game.  AARRGGHH!

We were all terribly disappointed.  Andrew even cried.  I guess it was a case of hope deferred making the heart sick, because we were all seriously bummed.  Of course, there will be a game at 6:30 next week, and Aunt Kristy will be here to see it.  However, that’s also a night that Andrew has gymnastics (4:30 – 7:30), and I am cooking dinner for 24 (served at 6:00 PM), so I may not get to see the whole game.

Ah, well, the season is young.  Play ball, Promise Keepers, play ball!

Transition accomplished, I think

When the YMCA canceled yet another gymnastics class last week without telling me, I got fed up.  I called all over and tried to find another gym for Andrew, only to learn that our options were:  the YMCA in Hollister, Springfield Gymnastics (on the north side of Springfield), or a place called Monarch Gymnastics off Rinehart Road (a mere seven-and-a-half miles from home).

Since I knew the Y wasn’t having classes last Thursday – both the Monday and Thursday classes had been canceled due to Branson schools’ spring break – I took Andrew to Monarch on Thursday.  I did that even though the Y called to say that there would be class on Thursday.  We just skipped it.

Andrew was NOT impressed with Monarch, but I was.  I liked the friendlier atmosphere.  I liked that the owner remembered our names.  I liked that the kids working out were, for the most part, smiling and seemed to be having a good time.  I liked that the guy who worked with Andrew’s class (which, by the way was MUCH too remedial for Andrew) took time to work with Andrew personally on his trampoline back handspring, and I liked the fact that Andrew made more progress on his technique in those focused fifteen minutes than he’d made in two months at the Y.

Andrew didn’t like Andrew (his teacher), missed his “friends” at the Y, didn’t like the lighting at Monarch, and in fact “hated Monarch.”  Lovely.

We called Noelle (owner of Monarch) and explained our situation.  She said that Andrew (the teacher) and Mark (the boys’ team coach) had been watching our Andrew during his class and they both agreed that he had competitive team potential.  Mark wanted him to come Monday during the team’s three-hour practice, so he could work with him.

Scott broke that news to Andrew this morning, and let’s just say that it wasn’t a pretty picture and two rounds of green chair hugs were required.  Before breakfast.

So this afternoon at 4:30, we returned to Monarch.  It was a long and exhausting three hours for Andrew.  There are about four other boys on the team, but only the top two of them work out on Mondays.  Chantry (11) and Buster (12) both medaled in the junior olympics for the state of Missouri last month.  They would out Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays.  I think the other two guys only do Tuesdays and Fridays.

Andrew was not nearly up to these guys’ levels, but he held his own through the practice.  Mark worked with him on a number of things and later told me he was impressed with how focused Andrew was, how well he listened and followed instructions, and how strong and controlled he was.  (Insert proud mom smiley here along with a note that we’d like to see some of those things at home, too.)

Afterwards, Andrew told his sisters all about it, adding that he “loves Monarch.”  Whew!  I think we may be over this transitional hump.  Monarch has not charged us for the five hours he’s been there so far, but I think I can now pay the fees for the first four weeks and we can plan on his being there on Mondays from 4:30 to 7:30.

Why the Y?

Andrew’s “pre-team” gymnastics class meets on Thursdays from 5:00 – 7:00 PM.  Back in the summer and fall, when he was just in a regular (not pre-team) class, it only met for an hour a week (Fridays at 5:00 PM), and, for  purposes of this blog, we’ll say it cost $2x per month.

I have learned that neither organization nor communication with parents are high on the list of our local (12 miles away)  YMCA.  For one thing, rather than being able to pay a monthly fee, which would be simple to remember and easy to do, one must pay in advance for each four-week session.  Furthermore, for reasons that completely escape me, a given session begins on a Tuesday or Wednesday (it varies) and ends on a Monday, usually not in the same month.  I don’t want to say that I’m middle-aged or anything, but there is a phase in a mother’s life when keeping up with such totally illogical details is extraordinarily difficult.

Now, last fall, they told me I could pay either before the session started (i.e., at the Friday class before the first Friday of the new session) OR at the first Friday class of the session.  I usually just paid on the first class when I took Andrew in.

For a while, all was peachy.  Then, the gymnastics coach (who is also named Andrew, but who is not our son’s actual teacher) informed me that our Andrew has a lot of natural talent and potential, and that he (Coach Andrew ) wanted him (son Andrew) to join a “pre-team” boys class that was being formed.  This class would be taught by a new guy, Peter.

It turns out that Peter is a nice fellow from Minnesota, a student at the local college, a Christian, and a helper at Camp Lookout, where Andrew spent a fun-filled week last summer.  He’s also pretty good at gymnastics.

Pre-team means that the boys in this class are not currently on a competing gymnastics team, but they appear to be headed in that direction, and Coach Andrew would like them to become skillful enough to join a boys competitive team.  The class is two hours on Thursdays and costs $4x per month.  So, we sucked it up, paid our money and re-arranged things to get Andrew to the Y on Thursday evenings.

Then there came a Thursday when it snowed.  Now, even though the Y is located in Hollister, their written policy states that when the Branson schools are closed due to snow, there will be no gymnastics classes that day.  Fine. We stayed home and played in the snow.  The next Thursday, being the first Thursday of a session, I forked over my credit card and was told that because the previous Thursday’s class had been canceled, there would be a 25% discount on the next session’s fee.  That seemed fair to me.  Instead of paying $4x, I paid only $3x, and all was right with the world.

Life went along, as life does.  Scott went to China and life got busy.   I had noted when the sessions stopped and started, and I had already marked on my calendar that when I took Andrew on Thursday, March 6 (today), I would need to pay another $4x.

However, we had sleet and freezing rain on February 21, again closing the Branson schools, and again canceling gymnastics.  On February 28, I took the Young Child to gymnastics and Jessica picked him up.  I just told her to get him; not to talk to anyone or anything.  After all, there’d be no need to pay till March 6.  That evening, (our) Andrew made some comment to me about Peter having said that his class would move to Mondays, but I blew it off, because Who Knew if the eight-year-old gymnast had his facts straight or not?  And besides, they wouldn’t change the class without telling the parents, right?

Wrong.

Today, Thursday March 6, I took Andrew to the Y, credit card in hand, ready to smile and pay my $4x.  Alas, it was not to be so simple.  First, we got 11.5 miles from home and Andrew realized that he had forgotten (duh!) to change into shorts and a T-shirt.  He was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, and he wailed with tears that he couldn’t possibly do gymnastics in those clothes and would I please go home and get him some clothes.  The short answer would be, “No.”

I then walked into the Y and said I needed to pay for my son’s  pre-team gymnastics session.  There were two ladies behind the counter.  We’ll call them Neutral and Disgusted.  The conversation went something like this.

D:  Which class?

P:  Boys pre-team, and by the way, my son mentioned something about that class moving to Mondays.

D:  Yes.  It’s on Mondays and Thursdays.

P:  Oh.  Really?  For how long?

D:  Same times.  Monday and Thursday, 5:00 to 7:00 PM.

P:  (stunned and realizing this is NOT going to work well for our family) Ummm. . .

N:  (stepping in)  But if you want, he can just come on Monday or Thursday.

D:  But they really want them here both days.

P:  Why the change?

D:  Well, in order for them to improve, at this level, they need more time in the gym.

P:  So. . . ?

N:  It’s four hours a week, but it’s canceled today.

P:  Huh?  Why’s it canceled?

D:  Peter couldn’t come in today.

P:  (truly getting exasperated) Then WHY didn’t anyone call me?!?  We don’t live near here.

N:  We called everyone who was registered.  You weren’t registered, so you didn’t get called.

D:  (smiles smugly)

P:  (choosing with great effort not to punch D)  What do you mean, “not registered?”

D:  You hadn’t paid for the session, so you weren’t registered.  We only called people who were registered.

Just then, Coach Andrew walked by, patted Andrew on the back and said, “Sorry you didn’t get a call, buddy.  Hey, we’re going to have class twice a week, if your mom will let you come.”  Sorry my foot.  “Buddy” doesn’t care.  He just rides in the back seat of the van.  Whether it’s costing his mom another gallon of gas or 40 minutes of drive time or 10 points of blood pressure does not even occur to “Buddy.”  Or, evidently, to Coach Andrew.

P:  (to Coach Andrew and staying calmer than I felt) So, his class is moving to twice a week?

A:  Yep.

P:  And how much will it cost?  $8x?

A:  Oh, no!  The price will go up since it’s four hours a week, but it’ll be, oh somewhere around $6x, I think.  See, here’s a sheet with all the information.

P:  Ohhhh….kaaaaaay. . .

Coach Andrew went on and I turned back to Neutral and Disgusted at the counter.  I was also thinking fast.  Here are just a few of the thoughts that raced through my cranium in the next four seconds:

* Scott is NOT going to like this.

* Do I really want Andrew to spend 4 hours a week at the gym? It’s actually almost 5.5 hours away from home, including drive time.

* Does Andrew even care enough about gymnastics to invest this kind of time?

* I don’t think Scott is going to like this.

* If Andrew continued to come only once a week and his classmates (four or five kids) came twice a week, they’d leave him in the dust, and then how would he feel – about himself and about gymnastics?

* If it’s $6x for four hours a week, what would be it for only two?  Especially if it’s been $4x for two, it’s unlikely to drop to $3x for two.  Hmmm. . .

* I do NOT want to try to explain all this to Scott.

* What about that snow day a couple weeks ago?  Will they take 25% off for that again?  If so, 25% of what?

* And since Peter’s not here tonight and class is canceled, what will that do to the price?

* And why didn’t they call me even if Andrew wasn’t registered?  Hey!  This is the first week of the session.  I was supposed to register him today!  He’s not un-registered!  And besides that, he hasn’t missed even ONE gymnastics class and I haven’t been late on even ONE payment since we started last July!  they could surely have made one phone call, even if it did prove unnecessary.

* This situation is not going to make Scott happy.

P:  (to N and D)  Just a minute.  (I called Scott.  Guess what? He was not happy.  In fact, he said things like, “It’s gonna cost WHAT?!?!” and “Why didn’t they call you?” and “We’re certainly not going to pay for a class he doesn’t get!”  He kept asking me questions I couldn’t answer and I’d have to say, “I don’t know. Let me ask.”  And I’d ask N or D and they would answer with a look on their faces – especially D’s – that said, “You are nobody, and who gave you the right to ask all these questions, anyway?”  I hate that look.

I finally hung up with Scott, still not knowing what he wanted me to do, and with at least one person now in line behind me.  My nature is to be passionately non-confrontational.  I do let people walk on me to an extent, but this time, I refused to be intimidated.

P:  OK, so it’s $6x per session?

D:  Yehhhhhhhss

P:  And what about when it was canceled due to ice a couple weeks ago?

D:  (almost snapping at me now)  You’ll GET 25% off!

P:  But the class was also canceled tonight, so that would be another 25%  off. . . so I should get 50% off, right?

D:  (rolling her eyes and sighing, turned to her computer and said nothing as she tried to bring up our account)  Last name?

P:  Roberts

D:  First name?

P:  Andrew

While she was computing, I looked over the red sheet that Coach Andrew had handed me.  I saw some small print at the bottom that said, “Schedule subject to change per Coach and/or YMCA events.”  Below that was some even smaller print that read, “A $10 Late Fee will be added to participant who sign up the 2nd week, or later, of the session.”

P:  (concerned that perhaps with all the class cancellations I had gotten the wrong session start date on my calendar – or rather, that the YMCA had changed something without telling me, which, evidently, is not outside the realm of possibility) I’m not going to have to pay a $10 late fee for registering today, am I?

N: (over D’s shoulder)  No.  See the session dates are right there. (She pointed to the red sheet I was holding.)

D: (staring fixedly at me)  That’ll be $3x.

I handed her my credit card.  She ran the charge.  I signed it and gave her back the original.  Without making eye contact or saying a word, she stuck the receipt in her drawer, looked past me to the lady behind me, smiled widely, and said in a very sweet voice, “Hi.  How can I help you?”

We walked out of the Y.

There’s supposedly another gym in the area (maybe the one in Ozark, 25 minutes in the opposite direction?)  I have overheard some of the gymnastics moms talking about it and saying that their prices are higher and their facilities aren’t as good.  I don’t know.

Tonight I’m not even really sure what my priorities for Andrew’s gymnastics are.  He’s clearly very talented, having gone in six months from zero to the level of kids who have been in gymnastics classes for several years.  I want him to have fun, gain skills, use his gifts, work with a teacher who cares more about HIM than about forming some team or winning some competition, and preferably in a Christian environment.  I don’t want it to cost an arm and a leg.  I don’t want it to involve enormous time commitments for our family (not at this age, certainly).  I want Andrew to enjoy and eagerly anticipate his gymnastics class(es).  I want him to really love his teacher.  It’d be nice if all that could happen close to home.

Maybe I’m asking too much, but the Y is close, and I guess – for now -  that’s why the Y.