It finally happened. In his third playoff game, the fourteenth game he's played this season, Sam finally hit the damn ball. A short line drive up the first base line pretty much guaranteed he'd be tagged out at first and he was. But that didn't matter. The boys in the dugout practically erupted when Sam's bat made contact and his coach at third base raised both fists in the air in salute. Sam raced to first, was tagged out and was then promptly grabbed in a bear hug by his coach at first. There was cheering and horn honking from all the spectators. Sam's hit enabled a runner to come in and score and you could hear the boys chanting "RBI!RBI!" as Sam trotted into the dugout where he was mobbed by his teammates who all slapped him on the back and high-fived him. The smile on his face was literally from ear to ear. After the game, Sam was given the game ball by his coach. One of his teammates also bestowed his own gameball to Sam. Sam went to sleep with them clutched in his hands and his cap perched on his head. Oh, this team. These coaches. They truly are a dream team.
I had my camera with me. I even had it out and was all prepped to capture photos as Sam stepped up to the plate. I took a couple as he stood ready to hit but lowered my camera and just watched when the fateful hit took place. And then I was frozen with joy, just taking it all in. The scrapbooker in me regrets I didn't take a single photo of the celebrating and the smile on his face. But even without photos, I will never forget. Oh, yes, the images will fade...but my memory of the joy, the pure unbridled happiness and the pride I felt for my son, his team and his coaches... that I will remember forever.