Baseball camp during the day. All Star practice in the evenings. Games coming up, scrimmages today and Friday, a constant barrage of baseball. The boys love it. Eat it up. Slurp it down. More, more, I’m still not satisfied. The Dads are all walking wounded. Sore arms from throwing batting practice. Sore backs from throwing, catching, picking up balls. Make that barely walking wounded. Kid hit me in the ear throwing a ball back, while I was catching a ball from another player. He didn’t bother to see that I wasn’t looking for the ball, just threw it. Ow. But do I mind? No. I do not. Because I am a river to my people.
When will it make an end? Not too soon, let’s hope.