A Saturday to Remember

You have those days as a parent, if you're lucky, when everything seems to fall into place for your child. Yesterday was one of those days for Joe.  

Joe has a baseball doubleheader for HBC yesterday morning, followed by the State League soccer semi-final game vs. Signal 12B Red, a team from Chattanooga.  Thanks to early morning, rain, baseball and soccer were delayed such that Joe was able to play in all three games.  

For HBC, the boys went 1-1.  They lost the early game, 10-1.  Joe pitched and threw strikes but got hit pretty hard, giving up 5 runs in two innings of work.  In the second game, Joe's HBC squad bounced back and won, 11-4.  It's a resilient group, which is good to see, because they're younger and smaller than almost any team they play.  They also enjoy playing together and their coach, Dalton Rogers, does a fantastic job with them.  It's been a good season for the boys.  

As strange as it is to type this, the baseball games yesterday were the appetizer and the soccer was the main course.  Gulp!  Based on how he played in goal at the last tournament for Armada's Blue team and the importance of yesterday's game, I felt like Joe would start at goalie and likely play the entire game.  That's precisely what happened and Joe played the game of his life in goal with his entire family watching.  Jude's brother, James, was in town and present, too, with his children, Caroline and James.  Jim and Jane were there, too, so it was a family affair to be sure.

Late in a scoreless first half, Joe gave up a goal when his defenders failed to clear a ball and left in in a dangerous area.  There wasn't much Joe could do to stop what amounted to a point blank shot from close range.  Armada had missed a couple of glorious chances to score, so at that point I was concerned it might be one of those soccer games where the boys outplay the other team but can't convert their chances and lose one they should have won.

In the second half, Armada pressed the action and spent a lot of time on Signal's end of the field.  Joe's teammate, Luke, probably Armada's most skilled players, patiently dribbled around a couple of defenders on the left side and scored on a powerful strike from 15 yards or so away to tie the game, 1-1.  

A few minutes later, off a corner, Armada ran a set piece - almost a give and go with Ethan tapping the ball into a teammate, then quickly getting it back - that ended up with Ethan blasting a longer range goal, again from the left side.  It was one of those goals that stuns the crowd momentarily as they try to process what just happened, before erupting in cheers.  

Armada tightened up the defense at that point and it looked like they were going to escape with a 2-1 victory.  

Joe was playing lights out in both halves.  He stopped two or three close, solid strikes, diving to his right at one point in the second half to deflect a ball out of bounds.  Later, he just got his hand on a ball driven slightly over him but headed for the net, deflecting it over the cross bar.  Solid, at times spectacular play from Joe in goal.

What was more impressive, though, is how poised and in control Joe was in goal.  He constantly communicated with his teammates, telling his defenders where he wanted them on corner kicks or free kicks.  He also talked to his offensive players, as well, exhorting them to play on and finish the game, to press the action.  All positive energy and emotion, which is something Joe has worked on the last year or so.  He's the team captain for a reason, as they say.

Late in the game, with less than five minutes remaining, a ball got loose near Armada's goal, and just like that, it was 2-2.  One of the Signal players pounced on it and Joe was caught in no man's land without a real chance to make a play.  Just like that . . . goal.  Tie game.

Armada's boys were deflated but Joe kept encouraging them to press, press, press the action.  At the end of regulation, we had a tie game, and I watched with pride as Joe and two of Signal's players met with the referees for the coin toss while Coach Mario talked with the rest of the team.

With the fans in their camping chairs leaning ever closer to the action, the teams remained tied after the first overtime and the second one, as well.  Now, the game would be decided on penalty kicks.  Joe loves to be in goal on penalty kicks because, well, that's Joe.  I thought I might have a heart attack.

Signal shot first and after Joe moved hard to his right, their player kicked it wide right.  Armada hit it's first penalty shot.  1-0.  Joe eyed the second Signal player as he lined the ball up.  The crowd quieted as he approached the ball.  Joe lunched hard to his right and deflected a shot toward the right corner out of harm's way and the Armada crowed erupted in cheering.  It was a moment I'll remember for a long time.  Armada hit their next goal but things got interesting when Luke hit the cross bar on a shot that could have one the game and Leo missed his, as well.

Pike saved the day, however, easily scoring the clincher, as the Armada players streamed onto the field and the fans celebrated.  On to the State League finals!

After the game when things had quieted down, a parent of a player on the other team walked by us and stopped.  Talking directly to Joe, he congratulated him and said that all season long, he had not seen a goalie communicate as well and as often with his teammates as Joe had done the entire game.  Joe thanked him, as my heart skipped a beat or two, then swelled so large with pride I thought it might burst out of my chest and fly to the heavens.  

Joe.  The Captain.  What a game.  What a day.  What a life.  

  

State!

Yesterday afternoon, at the Dean E. Hayes Track and Soccer Stadium at MTSU in Murfreesboro, JP ran the anchor leg in the 4 x 800 relay at the TSSAA State Championships.  

For the fourth time in a row that he's run the 800 in a track meet - solo or as part of a relay team - he set a PR, running his leg of the relay in 1:58:68.  His time was the fastest among his teammates that ran the relay, slightly ahead of Thomas Dennis, who ran the opening leg in 1:59:43.  

The Big Red's 4-man team ran the race in 8:04:20, roughly a second fast than their qualifying time at the Regional Championships.  They finished in sixth place, less than a second behind the city rival, Father Ryan HS.  Father Ryan's best runner, Ryder Ortner, clipped JP again on the final lap, this time by slightly more than three seconds.  

JP seemed to push the pace a little more, earlier, though, and I think he ran more competitively against Ryder.  The boys' time bear that out, too, as each ran about three seconds fast than at the Regional Championships.  I can't help but wonder if JP would have been three to four seconds fast had he been running track all spring, which would have included daily track workouts and strategy sessions for running the 800.  

Still and all, it's a pretty amazing feat for a freshman like JP to start every game but one on the junior varsity baseball team, then join the varsity track team as its season winds down, and run well enough to be included on the 4 x 800 relay team for the State Championships.  What's really impressive to me, though, is that as he continued to race the 800, he dropped his time down from 2:07 to 2:03 to 2:01 before posting a 1:58:68 time in yesterday's race.  

What does all this mean?  Where does it go?  I have no idea but, to me, that's kind of the beauty of it.  

I'm just so blessed to be along for the ride.

Junior Dodgers Forever

Originally, they were the Junior Dodgers.  In later years, the Diamondbacks.  For one, lost spring season, the Nationals.  And, most recently, the Braves.  

To me, though, they will always be the Junior Dodgers, forever five years old playing coach pitch baseball on fields 4 and 5 at Harpeth Hills Church of Christ.  Me, down on one knee with five baseballs in front of me 10 or 15 feet away from home plate, while one of them stands at the plate, wide eyed and innocent, gazing at me expectantly, bat determinedly held high and batting helmet askew.  And smiling, always smiling. 

That's how I'll remember Trey, Ram, George, Nico, Walker, Elias, Bennett, and Joe.  Junior Dodgers Forever.

Although I never say never, today might be the end of the line for this group of boys, playing baseball together.  Some boys will drift off to other sports.  Some boys will play for other teams, particularly in travel baseball.  Either way, it's the last day of WNSL's end of season house tournament.  

Joe missed yesterday's Braves' game because he had a double header for his HBC baseball team at Drakes Creek Park in Hendersonville.  One 11 - 1 win and a tough 5 - 3 loss, in which Joe pitched well, 2 1/3 innings with one run allowed on a leadoff solo home run to dead center field in the bottom of the third inning.  Joe also picked off a kid on second base with a nifty inside move to end an inning.  He's crafty on the mound, just like his older brother.

Shortly before Joe's first game, I got a text from Audrey, Huck's mom, announcing that Huck had hit his first career home run, a grand slam to centerfield on field 4 at Warner Park.  I am sick that I missed it, because it would have meant everything to me to be a part of that moment.  It's special, to be sure, to see a boy hit his first home run.  I saw Wes, Benton, and Elias hit their first home runs at the same age.  Those are unforgettable moments, as a player and as a coach.  

Huck's a special boy.  He wears his emotions on his sleeve but I am so proud of how hard he has worked to not let negative emotions get the best of him when he strikes out or makes an error in the field.  Last fall and this spring, he's improved so much in that regard by staying more even keeled throughout the game.  He's growing up and maturing and I would like to think that maybe I have been a small part of that process as his baseball coach.  

I coached Huck for the first time with the Diamondbacks and instantly connected with him, in part because he's just so genuine, innocent, and openly affectionate.  Without fail, before every game I have ever coached him in, he ran up to greet me as soon as I arrived.  And, without fail, after every game, win or lose, Huck has hugged and thanked me for coaching him.  That's just Huck.  He's in my Dodgers Hall of Fame, to be sure, and one of my favorites.  I am not sure any boy has loved being a part of this group of baseball players more than Huck.  

Having the opportunity to coach Huck, and boys like Huck, on the baseball field over the past 10 + years has been one of the highlights of my life.  I never, ever take for granted that so many parents have shared their boys with me on so many baseball fields for practices and games all across middle Tennessee.  These boys have filled my heart time and again over the years and enriched my life beyond description.

Huck throws right and bats left, which will be an advantage for him as he grows older.  He hit his growth spurt before the other boys and his voice dropped an octave or two, which delights me to no end.  He's also very proud of his relatively newfound ability to bang out pushups on demand.  His bat speed has always been there and because of his strength, he can do real damage when he barrels the baseball.  It can be unnerving to pitch to him in the cage.  

Huck's throwing and catching has improved over the past year because he's worked hard at it.  He can play catcher which, if that continues, could be a game changer, because he has a strong - though not always accurate - throwing arm.  He saved a game for us earlier in the spring when he threw a kid out at home plate from left field.  Absolutely hosed the runner, as the coaches - Scott, Mike, and me - looked at each other, smiling, in stunned silence.  It was quite a moment.  

With Huck as with all of the boys, the key is consistency and work.  Getting more and more reps.  Can he become more consistent in all aspects of the game, hitting, throwing, and catching?  How badly does he want to be great?   I ask Joe that question almost every day.  If Huck puts the work in and continues to love the game of baseball, I'll be watching him play middle school and high school baseball.

Although Huck was not an original Junior Dodger, it sure feels like he was, because I've enjoyed coaching him so much over the years.  I was so glad he joined me when our group left Oliver Davis and the Diamondbacks.  Huck's my guy in much the same way Aidan Poff on the Dodgers was my guy.  Similar personalities - also, both throw right and bat left - and whatever I put into coaching him Huck always gave back twice as much in effort, intensity, and attitude.  What more can a coach ask?  Huck is one of the special ones to me.  

As I sit here at Portland Brew on Sunday morning, preparing for another day of baseball with Joe and his HBC squad in Hendersonville and, hopefully, with the Braves at Warner Park this afternoon, I'm struck by how quickly it seems like all of this is coming to an end.  The innocence of youth.  A baseball game on a Saturday morning.  Baseball practice on a Tuesday night.  JP's already through it, playing high school sports now, and all of these boys are on their way there, too.  Lord, how I will miss these days.  

The boys get to a point where I've offered all that I have to offer and maybe, just maybe, what they need is instruction at a higher level than I (or the other fathers) can provide.  That being said, I coached JP's Dodgers in WNSL through age 13, though, and that worked out fine, because the ones that loved baseball and put the work in are playing high school baseball.  Maybe there's more baseball to be played by this group, together, after all.  Time will tell.  

Hindsight is 20/20 and all that, of course, but sometimes I regret that after the spring baseball season when the pandemic arrived in March 2020 and Joe played with the Diamondbacks, I didn't take my boys back to the Junior Dodgers.  Instead, because our experience was good with Oliver Davis that spring and he and I struck up a friendship, I brought the reset of my Junior Dodgers to the Diamondbacks.  Rather than bring them to Oliver, I think I should coached the Junior Dodgers, with my guys, and competed against the Diamondbacks.   

Selfishly, I was coaching JP's Dodgers and from a time and effort standpoint, it was nice to not be running two baseball teams.  The boys learned from Oliver, too, much like they're learning from Scott McRae this season, as well.  Still, it would have been nice to have them together as a group, with me, all of these years.  The bottom line, though, is that all of my boys - my Junior Dodgers - had positive experiences playting baseball all of these years.  Most importantly, too, I've kept them together over the years.  All of them love the game of baseball and that's what matters most to me.  

These days.  These boys.  It's a great life, isn't it?

Junior Dodgers forever.  

Going to State

Yesterday, JP learned that he will be running for MBA's varsity track team in the 4 x 800 at the State Championship Track Meet next week in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.  He was excited to get the news because although he was on the 4 x 800 team that qualified for the State Championships, there was a chance he would be replaced with an older, more experienced runner.  Objectively, he's one of the four fastest 800 runners of the group, I think, so I'm happy he was selected.

This abbreviated track season has been interesting for JP.  In the City Championships for freshman, he easily won the 800 and 1600.  It was different, though, when he ran the 800 in the last varsity track meet of the season.  He finished a few seconds behind the older runners.  

Last Friday, at the Regional Championships at MBA, JP ran the anchor leg of the 4 x 800.  He ran a PR at 2:01 and change but Ryder, a Father Ryan runner, pulled away from him on the last lap.  JP was angry and disappointed, of course, because he's JP and is competitive fire burns hot at all times.  As I reminded him after the race, though, Ryder didn't any curve balls this spring.  He was running track the entire time.

And that's the point, I think, and what makes JP's performance on the track all the more intriguing.  He practiced and played baseball for the junior varsity team all spring, then joined the track team as soon as the baseball season ended.  Sure, he'd been running on his own but he hadn't done any track workouts at all.  Moreover, he has absolutely no experience racing the 800 or the 1600 on the track.  He doesn't know strategy, race plans, etc.  And, still, his 800 time keeps dropping.  2:07, 2:03, 2:01.  

I can't help but wonder what kind of times JP would run if he ran track all spring.  I'm pretty confident he could get under 2:00 in the 800, probably down to 1:55.  That's really fast for a boy his age but who knows, really?  I love watching him run, though, in cross country or track.  I also love watching him play baseball.  

For a father, having the opportunity to watch your sons compete - really compete - at anything is special and a gift.  Always.  It's also fleeting, so I don't take it for granted.  Not a bit.

So, I'll juggle my schedule and be in Murfreesboro next Wednesday to watch JP run the 4 x 800 in the State Championships, cheering all the way.  

It's a good life, isn't it?

Joe Time

When Joe was at Children's House, I drove him to school each morning.  The way Jude and I worked the schedule, Joe and I had 45 minutes to an hour together every morning before I dropped him off.  We called it "Joe Time."  I miss those mornings terribly because for those few stolen minutes each morning, time seemed to slow down.  

We often went to Bongo Java for "second breakfast," as Joe called it.  We often played nerf football in the atrium inside the Curb Center by the entry to the basketball arena.  Students and faculty always smiled as they walked by us on their way to an early class, as I chased Joe on the way to scoring a touchdown and spiking the nerf football.  Other times, we played "Dude Perfect" and passed or punted the football to him from the top of the two story staircase at the front entrance into the student center.  

On Saturday, Joe and I drove to Clarksville for his last soccer tournament of the season.  For reasons I won't go into here, Joe played for the less experienced of the two 12U teams his soccer club sent to the tournament.  The 12U teams lost five of the six games they played, so it wasn't a banner weekend for the club.  However, Joe took advantage of the opportunity to play three reasonably solid games at goalie, although he didn't get a lot of action in the third game, a 4-1 in a 7 v. 7 game against a team that was undermanned.  

Admittedly, I know next to nothing about soccer, although I enjoy watching my sons compete at anything and everything.  Joe moved the ball well as goalie, which is what his coach wants him to do.  On several occasions, his defenders passed the ball back to him and he quickly moved it to the other side of the field.  In each game, Joe gave up one goal he probably would have liked to have back but, again, that's easy for me to see, as I have no idea what it feels like to play goalie in a competitive soccer game. 

The best part of the soccer tournament for me, though, was riding to Clarksville with Joe in my truck.  On Saturday morning, we listen to Tom Petty - the soundtrack from "She's the One," beginning to end - before moving into the Traveling Wilburys.  For Joe to love Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers the way I do is one of the true joys of my life.  On the way back to Nashville Saturday afternoon, we listened to more Tales from Lake Wobegone, by Garrison Keillor, from Prairie Home Companion.  Joe loves Tales from Lake Wobegone and I, of course, love that he loves it.  

After a brief stopover at the house on Saturday afternoon, I drove Joe over to Grassland for a Braves' baseball game vs. the Padres, probably the best team in the league.  It was a really good game, the kind of game you hope to see 12-year olds playing.  Good competition, good defense, good pitching, and timely. hitting.  Joe finished off a 5-2 victory on the mound and, although he didn't pitch great, he battled and let his defense - particularly Hamilton at shortstop behind him - make plays, and they did.  

There was a moment that I'll remember, when Joe was battling a good hitter who had worked the count full, at 3-2.  Joe threw a fastball that the kid fouled off directly into the umpire's nut sack - or the restricted area, as Joe calls it.  The umpired groaned and fell to the ground, as silence enveloped the crowd another coach and I ran in to check on him.  All of the men in the crowd knew exactly how the umpire felt.  I know I did.  After a few minutes, we helped him up and he insisted on continuing behind the plate.  A gamer.

I was curious what Joe would do after a delay like that.  3-2 count against a good hitter.  Would he throw a ball and walk him?  Would he give up a hit?  Nope.  Joe dialed up another fast ball and stuck the batter out.  That told me something about Joe's sense of resolve, his competitiveness, and his ability to focus and concentrate when he needed to do so.  It was a glimpse, I hope, of things to come for Joe, on and off the baseball field.  Grace under fire.  

In the last inning, Joe's control wasn't as good and he got into a jam.  He was bothered a bit by the Padres' players chirping at him during his pitched, which is bush league, in my view.  Still, he worked out of the jam and didn't give up any runs.  After he closed out the game, he stomped off the mound, angry and glaring.  He was pissed at the Padres' players and bench jockeys, so that give us something to work on, for sure.  I love the competitiveness, though.  Absolutely love it.

Joe's WNSL tournament starts, and ends, this week, so the Saturday night win over the Padres likely was Joe's last WNSL game ever.  My last WNSL baseball game to coach, or help coach, too.  I've got a lot to say about that, and I will, just not this morning.  Suffice to say there's nothing I like better than to be on the baseball field with one of my sons and his teammates.  It's quite literally heaven on earth for me.  

The Return of Guytown

Jude is in Knoxville this week for a leadership conference, so the boys are I have been on our own since Sunday afternoon, in Guytown.

That's long been my name, adopted by the boys, for how we handle things when Jude is out of town for work.  I don't get a lot of extended time alone with the boys, which makes weeks like this one even more memorable.  Working together, the boys and I figure it out.  There's a logistical challenge to it that I like, although the logistics are significantly less complicated in Guytown this time around because JP is driving.

For example, he's driving himself to MBA for school this week.  Steven and Mandy Young have been kind enough to allow  park in their driveway and walk through the backyard and across the street to school.  This allows Joe to wake up at his regular time, eat a leisurely breakfast and get his gear together before I take him to school at USN.  I don't have to worry about getting JP home from school, either, as he can drive himself home after track practice.  Convenient, to be sure.

I like the mornings in Guytown best of all.  Before I go to bed the night before, I set everything out that I will need to make breakfast in the morning.  A primitive form of meal planning, if you will.  I'm up at 6 a.m. or slightly before and I make JP's breakfast before I hop in the shower.  Waffle, cow cheese, fruit, and milk.  After I get dressed, I scramble JP a couple of eggs while we hang out for a few minutes.  

As JP gets his things together for school, I make Joe's breakfast.  Not surprisingly, Joe is a little slower getting going in the mornings.  He gets up, does his exercises, gets dressed, and comes downstairs.  By then, I'm scrambling his eggs, so he'll have them to eat as he's finishing his blueberry waffle, cheese stick, and fruit.  

From the early days, Jude emphasized the importance of the boys eating a good breakfast in the morning.  We've kept it up all of these years and it's become an important part of our daily routine during the week.  No Pop-Tarts or Nutri-Grain bars on the run for our boys.

Afternoons are a little more dicey with Jude gone because the boys are so busy with sports after school.  Today, Joe has a baseball game at 5:30 p.m., which means I'll have to leave work by 3:30 p.m. or so to pick him up from school and drive to the ballpark off Nolensville Road where he plays during the week.  All in heavy traffic.  Fortunately, my schedule at work so far this week has been relatively light, so I've been able to sneak away in the afternoons.  That changes tomorrow, though, because I'm mediating.  

Still, we'll manage just like we've managed so far this week.  Friday will roll around and we'll gather at MBA - Jude included - to watch JP run in the 4 x 800 relay for the varsity track team.  

Guytown.   

A Quiet Moment on Saturday in 12South

In 12South, change is afoot.  Everywhere.  

There are two major construction projects underway, the completion of which will bring ever more restaurants and retail options but also more traffic, tourists, and pedestrian congestion.  On Saturday afternoons like today, it's hard to walk down the sidewalk because the neighborhood is so packed with people from in and out of town, walking and gawking.  Parking is non-existent, so much so that it's difficult for actual residents like us to park on the street anywhere near the front of our house.  

Longtime restaurants and favorite spots of ours have closed - Josephine's and Taqueria del Sol - due to the expiration of longtime leases and greedy landlords.  It's sad to see a 12South original anchor like Mafiozza's on it's last leg with fewer and fewer customers dining and drinking there but I guess most restaurants have a shelf life.  The owners recently negotiated a 5-year extension when their original lease expired but I'll be surprised if it lasts that long.  

Several new restaurants are nearing completion in the two new developments that are going up.  Others will fill the spaces left behind by other dearly departed eateries.  It's crazy but I still mourn the loss of Mirror and Rumour's Wine Bar, a generation of restaurants ago.  Now, I miss Josephine, which was on the ground floor of a development project that resulted in the razing of Rumour's.  

I'm sitting in Portland Brew, in the heart of 12South, as a write this.  Thankfully, it looks the same, feels the same, and is the same, in spite of all of the change occurring nearby.  It's 4:30 p.m., almost closing time, and I'm the only customer inside, smiling to myself from my vantage point on the leather couch on the left side of the coffee shop.  It's comforting, somehow, to listen to the baristas laughing and talking as they clean up after what they told me was an incredibly busy day with Belmont, David Lipscomb, and Vanderbilt holding graduation ceremonies.  

I'm loyal to Portland Brew, through thick and thin, because it stayed open for takeout coffee during the pandemic, unlike Bongo Java and many other coffee shops and restaurants.  Although it seems like a fever dream, I'll never forget grabbing a latte from Portland Brew, extra hot, in a thermos, then pouring it into a coffee mug from home as I sat in a chair in front of Burger Up (which was closed) and watched the world walk by as I read The New Yorker in the early morning.  It was a scary, uncertain time, to be sure, so knowing I could still have a coffee from Portland Brew in the mornings meant everything to me.  

On an afternoon like this one, with throngs of people walking through 12South amidst the new development and construction projects, it's hard to believe that the pandemic ever happened.  Isolation?  Social distancing?  Masks?  All part of that fever dream or so it seems.

This is my neighborhood I guess, for better or worse.  As it's changed, so have I.  I've had children and they've grown older and I have, too.  The nights I finish a run at Edley's and have a beer or two while I take to Cara, Julie, or Ashley are long since past.  It's been ages, too, since I sat at the bar at Burger Up and had a "Friday Night" with Troy, while reading the New Yorker on my iPad.  The nights - weeknights and weekends - are so busy.  Work, teaching at NSL, or watching one of the boys play baseball, soccer, basketball, etc.  

After a morning of rain, Joe's baseball games were rained out.  JP drove himself to the MBA lacrosse playoff tame this afternoon.  Tonight, we'll probably walk down to 12South and eat dinner.  Maybe at Locust or Epice.  

I still love where I live and I'm grateful to have spent the past two decades in and around Belmont and 12South.