Despite the absence of new posts in the last week, I haven’t given up on this. It’s just been, to borrow a friend’s expression, “turbo-busy”. The work load has gotten a little better as we completed a few projects that had deadlines early this week but the 40 60 hour work week is looking a little better.

In spite of working a lot we have begun little league this week. My oldest son is playing coach pitch and- despite my strong desire not to help this year- I am helping with his team because the regular coach has virtually no help. I am also coaching my youngest son’s team because I wanted him to have the same great experience that his brother had and I didn’t know any of the other folks coaching in his division as was the case with his brother.

As you could imagine “coaching” a group of four and five year old children is not really coaching. It’s more like babysitting. Herding cats is a better description and with the use of aluminum bats and projectiles it can be quite nerve racking. Half of the eleven kids on the team cried at some point during practice, including mine. And no it wasn’t because I was yelling at them. They were upset because they wanted to hit or someone had beaten them in the race to field a grounder.

Please don’t mistake me for some crazy, living-through-my-child type dad. I think four is too young to start organized sports. My  oldest son did not start until he asked me to play, but my youngest watched his older brother play and absolutely loved it. Last year, at barely three, he was setting up the tee in the back yard, hitting the ball, and running bases all by himself (with his mom or me watching of course). So, when he was old enough to play it seemed like a crime to tell him he couldn’t.

Saturday was the first practice and he was awake and standing beside my bed with his baseball pants already on at 6:45 in the morning asking if it was time to play baseball yet.

It takes a lot of time but it is great time with the two coolest people that I know. On days when we have a game or practice in the evening, work seems to go a little quicker and even though the whole ordeal is tiring, it is a good tired.

I am proud to say that in the three years I have been doing this I have only missed one of my son’s games and that was because I was out-of-town. I was never that great at any type of sport and I am sure that watching me play was brutal at times but I don’t remember very many games, if any, that my father was not in the bleachers or dug out watching me. That has always meant a lot to me.

I am proud to say that this weekend will be the first that I will not have worked (in the office) since some time in February (I hope). And to top it all off I am taking Monday off.

A good friend has asked me to go to the Braves game – where Smoltz will make his season debut against two-time Cy Young winner Johan Santana- in Atlanta on Sunday afternoon, then we are going to take full advantage of Sunday liquor sales that afternoon, before crashing in A-town Sunday night. Monday morning we are headed to Augusta to watch some of the practice round for the Masters.

I couldn’t be more excited. Unless of course Alabama was playing Saturday. Wait, they are playing, albeit against themselves, next Saturday. Things are looking up.

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