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Kid stuff, but not...

All these baseball games remind me of a long ago, looong, hot summer when our really young daughter played softball. She was the worst player on the team (sorry honey but you know it's true : ) and so she batted last. Not a single hit the entire season, but she loved it anyway so we loved it anyway. Then came the final game of the regular season. The winner would go to the playoffs. Bottom of the ninth, we're at bat, and losing. Two outs, two runners on, and they're still ahead 3-2. The rotation rotated right to our daughter. I turned to Charles and mouthed the words, oh no. She was going to be the one who cost her team the playoffs. And then she hit the ball, brought two runners in, and we won 4-3. Everybody -and I mean EVERYBODY - went nuts. She was enveloped in a mass of ponytails and the coach as they headed off for their usual after game team meeting. We waited, still enjoying our stunned disbelief. Finally here she came, managing to run in a strut with the words tumbling out. "Momma, Momma, the coach said I was the clutch player!" She grinned all over as I assured her that was so correct and then she said, "Momma, what's a clutch player?" Well honey, that's the person who comes through for you when you need 'em the most. I've sure had some clutch players in my life and I bet you have too. I'm so thankful for them all and also thankful for any opportunity to do what they, and our child, did. Because sometimes, whether for ourselves or for others, we all just need to step up, ignore the outs, and swing the bat.

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