A Risky Gut Feeling

My alarm goes off at Nine a.m., In excitement, I roll out of the uncomfortable, dissatisfying hotel bedroom, knowing that today is a big day. I quickly hop into the shower, get my uniform on, and start heading down to the hotel breakfast to fill up my stomach. As I entered the room, my dad is sitting around the rest of my teammates parents, with a big coffee in his hand, rapping about how the team has been doing and what we will need to focus on for our team to succeed. He turns his head away from the crowd, looks over at me, and states with excitement,

"Big day today buddy, did you get something to eat? Did you get enough rest? You excited?". 

Before I was even able to answer his first question, he looks down at his phone and starts to show me the game schedule for the day along with the scouting reports for the teams we were playing against. If you could not tell already, my dad gets even more excited than me. We ate some breakfast together and

My Dad and I
 January 9, 2013

hopped in the car on our way to the field. It was the third day of the baseball tournament and every team was fighting to get into the championship game. My dad turns to me driving slowly down the windy roads and said with confidence, 

"You got this buddy. I watched the team you are going against yesterday, and they are pretty good. However you boys have been practicing hard. I know you guys got this. Their pitchers throw pretty fast though. So tighten up at the plate and drive your pitch. Be patient up there". 

My dad always had good advice to share with me. He has played the game almost his whole life. We arrived to the baseball field, started to stretch, and thirty minutes later, the game began. Everything was going like usual. My dad and all the parents around him shouting the same phrases, 

"That was a strike blue! Get your eyes checked!" my dad would say frustrated at the umpire. 

Fast forward to the last inning of the game, the game is tied 2-2. Our team is on defense and our opponents were batting. Everything was going good, according to plan, until one pitch changed the game. The other team hit a walk of homerun to go to the championship game. Everyone thought the game was over. Until my dad stood up furiously, running straight up to the concession stand.  He went right up to the commissioner and angerly shouted, 

"I want to protest the game that was just played on field 4. The kids that were playing against my sons team were definitely older than my sons team and if that is the case, they participated in a illegal tournament". 

The commissioner of the tournament responded calmly and stated,

"You are allowed the protest the game, but you have to pay $200. If you win the protest you get the money back, however if you loose the protest, we keep the $200". 

Without a second thought my dad immediately said, 

"I'll do it! Here is the $200". 

Everyone on our team was in shock. Never thinking that my dad would spend $200 dollars on a blind risk, however he was determined to prove everyone wrong. The commissioner said it would take an hour or two, to find the kids birth certificates to to prove if the team was legal or not. Therefore everyone left the field and came back in an hour. When everyone showed up, we saw the opposing team stretching. Our team then sat outside the field patiently waiting for the results of the protest. Fifteen minutes later, the commissioner came down to the field and told everyone that the opposing team was dis-qualified from the tournament. It turns out that the team had a bunch of 17-18 year old's in a 16u baseball tournament. With the results coming back, our whole team then took the field for our championship game. Everyone was in shock because nobody thought that the team we were going against was cheating. Turns out they were and everyone praised my dad for having the courage and determination to challenge the game. If it wasn't for him, we would have never been able to participate in the championship game. 

Second Place Champions Shelton Connecticut Baseball Tournament
September 20, 2015