This past weekend Chase proudly stood at third base for the Minor League Marlins. The team was short a few players so he was called in from his regular position in right field to get a taste of the action. Dave usually mans these games and I try to make most of them, but this Saturday there were a number of errands that he had to run, so I was the lone representative of the clan along the foul line. I sat next to Pete whose two sons play on Chase’s team. We chatted happily as the action unfolded on the field.
At some point in the middle of the game (please don’t ask me what inning, they all blend together), the second base runner went to steal third. Our catcher hurled the ball towards Chase for the out and, lo and behold, my kid CAUGHT the throw…though not exactly in his glove. The ball hit the inside of Chase’s forearm…hard. He cradled his arms, held on, and tagged the base, but the runner had already arrived. Safe, but a valiant effort.
“Good play Chasey!” I yell. “Way to go!”
The play resumed on the field and I watched my sweet third baseman return to his position alongside the bag, tears streaming down his face which, despite his best attempts, had crumpled under the pain of the beaming he just took. He stood there in ready position choking back sobs.
“Time!” The third base coach stopped the game and turned to……me.
“Want to see if he is ok?”
I was suddenly perplexed. And right then and there my maternal instinct strangely ceded its authority to the unwritten rules of Little League which clearly state that THE MOMMY IS NOT ALLOWED TO RUN OUT ON THE FIELD TO TEND TO HER SON UNLESS HE IS UNCONSCIOUS.
I turned to Pete: “Should I go OUT there?”
He shrugged. I stood, trying to be as cool as possible. Do not run. Do not fuss. I sauntered over to third like the seasoned manager I will never be am.
“You alright bud?”
Chase nodded.
“Wanna keep playing?”
He nodded again.
“Shake it off, man. You’re tough.”
Game on. I returned to my folding chair and swallowed hard.
There’s something to be said for sucking up the pain, wiping away your tears, and staying in the game. I always knew Chase had it in him. Now I know I do as well.
