Yesterday I learned that nothing...NOTHING...is funnier than a 3 and 4-year-old t-ball game. After standing back to learn the social mores and taboos if this new Saturday morning ritual, I have gathered that the rules seem to go as follows:
1. When a batter hits the ball, every player from the field shall descend upon it, elbowing and wrestling to be the winner of this coveted prize.
2. The batter is not always left out of the afore-mentioned ritual. A batter may, in fact, go after his or her own ball for any reason, especially if they desire to hit again, or even if they just want a firm hold on the ball while they are getting to first base.
3. The bases may be run in whichever direction a batter chooses.
4. Batters can and will have a chat with their coach during an at bat.
5. Mommies or Daddies are expected to run the bases with their companion batter.
6. Batters and outfielders never, I repeat NEVER, listed to what is being yelled at them, so don't even bother. It better to just grab an arm and guide them in the correct direction.
7. Lots of hugs and snuggles are expected in between, and sometimes during, each play in order to reassure a player's ego. (While this would be annoying in an adult, I find myself dreading its ending for my little boys.)
Hmm, that about wraps it up. I can't remember a sporting event where I laughed more. I truly wish I taped the whole thing. By the way, if you, dear reader, didn't notice, Brady's team happens to be the PHILLIES! I think it's a sign...I'm raising the next Chase Utley.
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