Thursday, May 18, 2006

Hey batta batta batta...

Little league baseball at the county park.

Eleven and twelve year old boys playing like the big league.

Little brothers and sisters playing catch on the sidelines.

Park at your own Risk! the sign says - lots of foul balls!

Uniforms with telltale stains of Georgia red clay on knees and seats.

Pockets and mouths full of sunflower seeds.

Boiled peanut hulls strewn on the ground - just $2 at the concession stand.

The snowcone-mobile circling the fields, drawing in the children with its Pied-Piperlike music.

Lots of base stealing going on.

Coaches and parents yelling encouragement.

The umpire gives advice to the pitcher on how to watch the runner at first.

A home run is hit over the center field fence and both sides stand and cheer, because everyone knows the hitter, just look at that huge grin on his face as he rounds the bases.

Outfielders and infielders yelling "Hey batta batta batta..."

Our grandson Kyle has always played baseball, he loves to play and loves to watch. He went to see the Atlanta Braves play last weekend and got his glove signed by several of the Braves players.


Little League baseball is a good thing 'cause it keeps the parents off the streets and it keeps the kids out of the house. - Yogi Berra

4 comments:

Tammy said...

My grandson has just started t-ball. He is doing very well so far...my hubby calls him "Mark McGuire" Daniel...lol! He lives in Ky and I'm stuck here in Ohio so I will try to see at least one game...I hope...Love your blog!

John Cowart said...

That tree house is terriffic!

Jeanne said...

Oh, I can just about smell the grass on that ballfield :)
Jeanne

Abandoned in Pasadena said...

Right now I have no grandkids playing, but I'm sure I could probably find a nephew that is playing ball.

I got my windshield broke once with one of those foul balls...but it was by a college baseball team player.