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That previous post really set the stage for an exciting, emotional, underdog-makes-good kind of ending, didn’t it? (If you didn’t read it yet, you should.) Imagine it: the shrimpy, non-baseball-playing kid scarred from his less-than-enjoyable Little League experience steps to the plate more than three decades later and belts one over the fence.
Oh, if only. sigh
The game of baseball has become a major part of my family’s life … which, based on the following photo, should come as a surprise to no one. I mean, let’s face it: when your background includes playing on a team of this caliber, your family is pretty much guaranteed a baseball-rich life:
I’ll point myself out in a moment, but first: How ’bout that coach, huh? He makes Morris Buttermaker look like Anthony Robbins. Of course, in his defense: Look at the collection of misfits he had to work with. I would suggest that his lack of enthusiasm was well justified.
Zan has started his fourth season of organized baseball, which also is his first season of organized baseball here in Pennsylvania … and, despite being sired by a guy who…
