And now at 8 years old. We recently played a tournament with two teams that were really, really good..as in pitchers who threw with real heat. On Saturday, we split the games with a win and a loss. Sunday, oh boy, what an amazing two games.
The first game, we played the team that destroyed us on Saturday. A back and forth game, you just knew it would come down to the end. All tied up, at the top of the sixth in came Zachary to close out our inning. Oh the tension. But the boy as usual found a zone and closed it out. At the bottom of the inning, Zachary walked up to the plate to hit. (Did I mention this kid was throwing bullets). I’m not gonna lie, this momma was very nervous. After fouling a few balls off, he smacked one down the 3rd baseline and ran like lightning to first base..where he promptly ran over the 1st baseman who was in the baseline. As they both lay on the ground, silence as the ball rolled into the outfield. Suddenly our coaches started yelling GET UP. GET UP. The boy on command, jumped up and ran for second and then to third. I can only describe it as a drunk ostrich looking for his egg..because he sputtered his way around the bases..and when the dust settled (literally because he slide into the bag), the ump was waving SAVE. When the next hitter dribbled one two second, the boy roared home to score. And our team erupted.
