At the start of the season if you would have told me I would be this invested in 7/8 year old baseball I would have laughed at you. The last two and a half weeks have been fucking nuts. Playoff sports is intense no matter the age.

Today we had an elimination game to play. Winner moves on and the loser goes home. It was our 9th game in 16 days between out in house tournament and the Tournament of Champions games. Going into the top of the last inning we were behind by 3 runs. We scored 5 runs. Home team comes up with the bottom of their line up. Like most teams we are out of pitchers at this point. Coach puts in one of the older kids to pitch. He immediately walks the bases loaded. Coach calls time out and calls my son to pitch.

My son is the youngest kid on his team and in the division. Had he been born 4 days later he would have still been in t-ball. But here we are playing with 7 and 8 year olds. Shit some of these kids have just turned 9. My son hasnt even turned 7 yet and wont for a couple of months. But for some reason he is league age 7. He has had a great season. He is one of the better hitters on his team and played every position on the field. They even had him pitch a few innings here and there. But he hast pitched the entire playoffs. Shit he hasnt pitched in 13 games. But he has wanted to. Every day he tells me he wants to pitch. I just kept telling him to be ready for when his number was called.

Well tonight it was called in a fucking huge moment. When the coach called him to pitch he sprinted to the mound with a big ass grin on his face. The rest of the team was nervous and scared. He was happy as shit to get called. He looked loose in his warm ups and confident. Not a worry in the world. My wife and I were a fucking mess. He is only 6 and this is too much pressure. Why is the coach putting him right now? He's not ready.

Here comes the top of the line up. They have been killing us the whole game. Especially their 3rd batter. Double plays dont happen at this level so we are going to face this kid this inning. The lead off hitter flies out to our 2nd baseman for the first out. E runs out to high five his 2nd baseman for catching that and pumps his fist on his way back to the mound. He was fired up. Me and my wife were pacing and could barely watch. He works the next batter to a full count before striking him out. 2 outs!

Big boy walks up to the plate. 2 years older than my son. A good 5 inches taller and 20 lbs heavier. But it didn't bother E. He is fearless. First pitch swing and a miss, strike one. Second pitch Big Boy connects pulls it to left,foul ball. Any other kid would have been scared because he just hit the shit out of that foul ball. You could hear the collective sigh of relief from the parents. I look at the mound and E pumps his fist because it means strike two. Next pitch big boy gets a hold of it. The ball went over our left fielders head and big boy rounds the bases. His run didnt count because they only needed 3. But he just hit a walk off grand slam off my boy.

Watching him walk off that mound was heartbreaking. He was upset but I was the one crying. I didn't expect him to experience something like this until he was much older. I mean up until this season they never kept track of outs or score. Last week was easily the best moment of his short little league career winning their in house tournament earning 1st place and gaining a spot into this tournament. Today was easily the worst moment.

When they came off the field I was proud of him. He was mad but had no tears in his eye. The coach gathered the team around and gave his speech. Just like after every game he gave out a game ball. It went to Emiliano. As soon as the meeting was over he handed me the ball and said he didnt want it because they lost. We went out for pizza and ice cream after the game to celebrate their great season. When we got home he said he wanted to pitch to me in the backyard. He said we gotta start getting ready for next season. I started crying again.

November 8th, 2005 The greatest night in the history of GD!