June in the Pacific Northwest is in some years referred to as Junuary, but last year, at least on this one weekend it was hot. It was Sunday and my oldest daughter’s 12U team had made it to the championship game of a tournament in Bellingham, WA about 20 miles south of the Canadian border. They had gone undefeated until now, but they were down to their last at bats trailing by two runs in defensive battle. The bottom of the line up, a girl called The Giraffe is our first batter. She’s number 12 in the order. Unlike most teams, my daughter’s team bats the whole lineup whenever they can, even in bracket play.
The Giraffe has a 1-2 count and does what every coach preaches against, she takes strike three looking, right down the middle. The chances of a comeback are wiltering in the hot sun. However, before The Giraffe can return to the dugout she’s called back by the umpire. The umpire explains that he was not ready for the pitch. What everyone thought was strike three is called an illegal pitch and a ball is called against the pitcher who delivers another ball and then after The Giraffe fouls one off, a fourth. A backwards K has been turned into a walk.
Now we’re back to the top of the order and Slick is up. There’s some hope. Slick hits a nice double that scores The Giraffe.
We need one run to tie and The Barbarian is up to bat. The Barbarian blasts a triple and we have a tie game.
Now my DD, the number three batter is up. Coach calls a time out and calls my DD down to 3rd base to join him and the Barbarian in a discussion. Coach later tells me even if he didn’t have a clever and cunning plan in mind he would have had to call time out just to calm down The Barbarian who is hyperventilating with excitement. After a slow start to the season, my DD has become the best hitter on the team, leading the team in batting average, number of hits and doubles. So, it’s a surprise to everyone to everyone on our side when the first pitch comes and she lays down a bunt that goes right into the ground just in front of the plate. The catcher is also surprised and she scrambles out to collect the ball and throws it – to first and allows the winning runner to score.
Now, that was an exciting end to a great tournament for my DD’s team, but her game winning RBI is not what comprises my favorite moment of her’s last year. That happened in the car ride home when I said to her, “Way to go, Game Winner!” and she cut me short. “Dad, I didn’t win the game! The Giraffe had to get on, Slick hit a double and The Barbarian hit a triple. I just did a bunt that scored the last run.”
That really made me proud. That she sees the bigger picture and appreciates the game is a team effort. Of course, as her dad I replied, “Whatever, Game Winner!”
The Giraffe has a 1-2 count and does what every coach preaches against, she takes strike three looking, right down the middle. The chances of a comeback are wiltering in the hot sun. However, before The Giraffe can return to the dugout she’s called back by the umpire. The umpire explains that he was not ready for the pitch. What everyone thought was strike three is called an illegal pitch and a ball is called against the pitcher who delivers another ball and then after The Giraffe fouls one off, a fourth. A backwards K has been turned into a walk.
Now we’re back to the top of the order and Slick is up. There’s some hope. Slick hits a nice double that scores The Giraffe.
We need one run to tie and The Barbarian is up to bat. The Barbarian blasts a triple and we have a tie game.
Now my DD, the number three batter is up. Coach calls a time out and calls my DD down to 3rd base to join him and the Barbarian in a discussion. Coach later tells me even if he didn’t have a clever and cunning plan in mind he would have had to call time out just to calm down The Barbarian who is hyperventilating with excitement. After a slow start to the season, my DD has become the best hitter on the team, leading the team in batting average, number of hits and doubles. So, it’s a surprise to everyone to everyone on our side when the first pitch comes and she lays down a bunt that goes right into the ground just in front of the plate. The catcher is also surprised and she scrambles out to collect the ball and throws it – to first and allows the winning runner to score.
Now, that was an exciting end to a great tournament for my DD’s team, but her game winning RBI is not what comprises my favorite moment of her’s last year. That happened in the car ride home when I said to her, “Way to go, Game Winner!” and she cut me short. “Dad, I didn’t win the game! The Giraffe had to get on, Slick hit a double and The Barbarian hit a triple. I just did a bunt that scored the last run.”
That really made me proud. That she sees the bigger picture and appreciates the game is a team effort. Of course, as her dad I replied, “Whatever, Game Winner!”
That's what it's all about. As a proud parent I would have responded like you did though! 
