Things I Have Yelled During Youth Baseball Games, and the Events That Precipitated Them

"Good eye!"

The first pitch was three feet outside and in the dirt, but the child at bat did not swing. It is possible that he did not realize the game had started, but nevertheless, he has done everything right to this point, and we must celebrate that while it lasts.

"Okay, now you've seen it, let's give it a ride next time!"

The second pitch was a 38mph strike down the middle, and once again, the child did not swing. I am now feeling a smidge less confident about the development of his "eye", but I remain optimistic, because there are still two strikes left.

"Good cut, good cut!"

The third pitch of the at-bat was a foot outside and once again in the dirt, and this time the child did swing.

That's good, though. He remembered he has a bat! That's not nothing.

"Alright, now, let's keep it positive!"

One of the children has said something mean about the umpire, and while I agree with the assessment on pure merit, I don't think it's the time or place to be having this conversation, especially not while in earshot of its subject.

"That's right, make him work, way to stay alive!"

The fourth pitch was probably a ball, but there's no accounting for the umpire's mood, nor his recollection of the things he heard the children say about him last time, so the fact that the child swung and fouled it off is ultimately fine.

The grandparent who the ball hit appears to be fine, too.

"Hey, good battle up there!"

He struck out.

"Way to wear it, takin' one for the team!"

The second batter was hit by a pitch.

He very clearly did not want to take one for the team and tried his best to dodge it, but this is one instance where his slow reflexes have finally paid off.

"Good hustle, nice try!"

Our improbable baserunner attempted to take second on a passed ball. He actually beat the throw, but overran the base and was tagged out.

"Time to play some defense!"

It has to happen at some point this season, right? Besides, they've improved dramatically since the first game. By now, almost all of them know which one is left field and which one is right.

(The third batter struck out, but you already knew that.)

"Way to get there, great heads-up play!"

A ground ball was hit directly to the shortstop, who bobbled it, recovered, and overthrew the first baseman's head by several feet. The first baseman chased down the ball, heaved a long throw to try and catch the runner as he rounded second and headed for third, and missed the third baseman wide by ten feet.

The left fielder actually remembered to back up the play at third, though, and the runner is held to a "triple". This will go down as one of our top defensive plays of the year, and I begin debating what song I will set it to in the end-of-season highlight reel.

Probably something by Imagine Dragons. Kids love that crap.

[muttered] "Dang, good for him."

A player on the opposing team just hit an actual, over-the-fence home run. I cannot be mad at this, because that kid looks really happy. Also, he was going to score one way or another, but doing it in this way assures that no one on our team got hurt in the process.

"That's right, limit the damage, let's get some back now!"

They scored five runs, but the league has a six-run-per-inning mercy rule, and we didn't hit it this time. That's basically a birdie!

"Let's get those spirits up, guys, I want to hear some chatter, support your teammates!"

The other team has now brought in what I can only surmise based on his stature and ill-fitting jersey to be the little brother of one of their players to pitch, and he retires the side in order. The mood in the dugout is best described as "funereal", aside from the one kid currently playing dizzy-bat. (He looks like he's having fun.)

"Well, you guys played hard, but that's baseball. Even the best teams don't win 'em all."

We lost 23-5.

It is for the best in this moment that I do not realize that the team that just beat us–who I have assumed to this point to be one of the league's best based on their performance against us–had not won a single game this season prior to tonight.

"Save it for the car."

My child has just said something that, once again, may be correct on its merits but should not be said within earshot of teammates, coaches or umpires.

(It was about me.)

Friends, it's Friday once again at The Action Cookbook Newsletter.

It's not even technically even summer yet, but we're dripping with sweat over here, and trying to make the best of one of the busiest months of the year.

Below the subscribers-only paywall break today, I've got a new grilling gadget put to excellent use, a sublimely-stupid cocktail, great recs in books, music and more, plus some very good pets AND a very important pet-related reader request.

Put me in, coach. I'm ready to play.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a middle-aged Dad in possession of a grill, must be in want of some gadgets

I have made no secret in the past of my love of kitchen gadgets.