So last Thursday, after our bitter loss and the end of our otherwise excellent Double-A Little League season, our team got together at La Loma field for a picnic and to hand out trophies and goof off. We had a lot of fun
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Heh. And you first saw Emmett when he was a tiny little poot. Yeah, he grew a lot in the last year. More than three inches. He's basically got his big kid proportions now. With his shirt off he's definitely got a teenager's build, just a smaller. He's kind of ropey and buff.
Yeah, Emmett's got a classic line drive stroke. At this point, after years of tinkering I limit myself to two corrections when I'm coaching his hitting: (1) If he's flying out and not keeping his head in, I have him close his stance slightly; (2) for all other hitting ills, concentrate on hitting the ball up the middle.
When we pitched whiffleball to get the kids warmed up before a game, I gave them ten points every time they drilled me with a line drive. They liked that, the sadistic little gits.
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Doesn't Emma look good at the plate?
DAMN good, actually.
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I know! Tub-time!Emmett, who cracked me up with his poop jokes and shared my love of the Powerpuff Girls!
Ack. Too big. Entirely too big.
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When we pitched whiffleball to get the kids warmed up before a game, I gave them ten points every time they drilled me with a line drive. They liked that, the sadistic little gits.
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