But there is no joy in Mudville--great Casey has struck out.

Oh it's a mother's worst nightmare. Seeing her child feel like he has failed. Top of the 6th (we only play 6 innings), runners on 1st and 2nd, down by 1 run, 2 outs...and here comes Owen up to bat. He didn't strike out...he grounded out to first. The ball was inside and actually hit more of the handle of the bat than anything. He was devastated that his play was the last play of the game. I tried to reassure him that he was NOT the reason they lost the game. I tried to remind him that they wouldn't have been as close as they were if he hadn't blasted it into center field on his last at-bat. I tried to tell him that lots of boys dropped balls, overthrew balls, struck out...to no avail. The mighty Casey was in tears.

Heartbreaking. Simply heartbreaking, that's what it was. Not that we lost...I could care less. But that my boy was feeling like he held the weight of his team on his shoulders and didn't deliver. I was almost in tears myself. This morning he seemed better...I pray he is not reliving that at-bat over and over in his head today. I've been there. It's not pretty.

On an even sadder note, my batteries ran out in my digital, so I have no pictures to post of my bald-headed baseball boy. It's something to see. There is nothing more nerve-racking than taking a razor to your kid's head. OMG. I was scared to death I was going to cut him. I will get batteries today and post a pic tomorrow, I promise. Hopefully he'll have a little more color on that noggin by then and it won't look so freakishly white.

Tonight I get to work the concession stand at the ball field. Ah yes...brings back the days of the Burger King drive-thru. The smell of burgers and dogs and me with ketchup on my shirt...and in my hair...and on my shoes. I'd better change my shoes before I go there. And my shirt...and my pants for that matter. Why oh why didn't I put a change of clothes in my car this morning??? ack. My boss asked me if I was going to be inept at the concession stand...he insists all the moms that work at the concession stand cannot remember a thing. I assured him with my background in fast food management that the stand would be running at optimal organization tonight. I can certainly face down a bunch of screaming little leaguers right? Right? Can they be any grumpier than the regular who came through every morning for a coffee? The lady who wanted her croissant with just sausage, no cheese and make sure it's fresh. The dude who insisted he ordered his Whopper WITH CHEESE, though I know he did not, and would always come back to have the cheese added later so he wouldn't get charged. Sneaky little bastard. He thought I didn't notice...the truth is I didn't CARE. I was wearing a button down covered in condiments and a BOW-TIE for crap's sake...take your friggin' cheese and go away.

oooooh, sorry...flashbacks.

Elvis night on Idol tonight folks...I have it on good authority 'Suspicious Minds' will be one of the ditties...tip your hats towards Nashville, kids. And think of your favorite tune by the King...