I'm happy to report that the Dodgers (and their coach) survived our first T-Ball game last night. In fact, it was better than that with regard to the kids. They did great! For the most part, they listened to instruction really well, stayed in their positions, hit the ball both from the T and from the coach's pitches, and seemed to have a great deal of fun.
As for the coach, well the word "survival" does apply. Picture him rushing home from work to get ready on time, then suddenly realizing as he approaches the house that he forgot to pick up his grandson for the game! No time to go get him. Can't get hold of anyone on the phone who can. Frantically making calls, and as he does, he locks his keys in the car! Picture him trying over and over again to call his wife to find the location of the spare key. Picture him tearing apart the usual places and finally finding it. Then watch as he talks to the babysitter again and she agrees to bring the grandson, except he will be late. Oh well, at least this incident won't go into the "Bad Grampas" Hall of Fame. Then watch as he pulls out only to notice that the back door is standing wide open. He runs up and shuts it and quickly drives to the field, only to realize that he forgot all his papers—the schedule, the roster, the sign-up sheet for snacks.
By the way, as you are picturing this, gently put your fingers in your ears. You don't want to hear some of the words being uttered against the chaos!
As the coach gathers his team for the pre-game talk, he asks, "Have you ever had a bad day?" and confesses his loony behavior. Confession is good for the soul. The kids are unfazed, have a great game, and Austin arrives for at least half of it.
An inauspicious debut for the coach...