Freddogg Off The Chain

I left a backyard get together last night with good people and great food because ‘Big Loser Boy’ had to go cover a Rehoboth Little League Championship game between 12 year olds which began at 7:30 p.m.
I can deliver "the juice" to any local story so when summoned I’m more than happy to show up, my neurotic need to be loved satisfied for another night.
But I get there and some people begin to give me grief “this isn’t Lewes” insinuating that I am biased towards Lewes and I told then “No, Lewes had just as many gay people as they did” which left them bewildered which is their day time walk around psychological state.
Then some young dad said,”You wrote and took pictures of Lewes minor league baseball but what about us? My team finished 12 & 0 and we didn’t receive any publicity.”
Let me mention that one weekend I covered two games in Lewes Little League and it never dawned on me that adults from the next town would see the great coverage and react “what about us” but how great is it to slight peoples with all kinds of advantages. I’d just like to know I’m doing it so I can have the appropriate fun along the way.
I jumped this minor league guy like a base stealer on a catcher with a lollipop arm.
“Coach, tell me one thing you have done this season to promote your team. Tell me about one phone call or email, anything.”
A young second story boy behind a screen in the building behind the backstop –it looked so Bronx ghetto-announced the batters. ‘Now batting Calvin… Now batting Alec.” I yelled up “Hey announcer boy! Got any last names?” He shook his head no, like who has last names, and his mother looked out like “leave my son alone” and I’m thinking “Announcing 102 Class –Last names delivered.
The game ended as all games do but I’m left as a writer to make sense of it all but you can’t write," Luke had a double and the pitcher with un-hittable not to mention un-catchable as a walk followed by three consecutive wild pitches lead to a run and Johnny threw his helmet and cried but nobody likes being tagged out sliding into home as opposing parents screech in ecstasy.
I did interviews of 12 year old boys afterwards who said things like “sure, yea, I guess so and I don’t know" and when I got in my truck it dawned on me,’ what the hell was the final score?’
Last I checked it was 3 to 0 but it may have been 4 to 0 and if I get it wrong grandparents will be on me like Rodan on an Early Bird Special.
I am out at home!

FReddogg