Another one of my flash fiction/memoir pieces, this one appropriate for the holiday. I hope you enjoy!

Labor Day 2010

          Reading the back of the kid’s baseball jersey, I can’t believe someone’s last name is really “Filet.” Oh, looking again, I see it’s “Filiet.” Yeah, like that’s better.
          There are scads of tiny 8-year-old boys looking like ants scattered about the green grass. Focused, intense these kids are. Just a minute ago Riley was whining quietly in the car about one thing or another and now he’s practicing his swing like he’s been in the pros for years. His eyes dart around the field memorizing who is doing what where.
          While moms dole out juice, water and snacks and move the umbrellas to keep the scorching late summer sun off their spectator families, dads are standing in groups, mostly watching, silently hoping their sons do the right thing.
          After a week of TV news showing death – accidental or intentional – drugs, dwindling earth resources and dejected employees acting out, all you’ve got to do is come out to a Little League game on this Sunday. It’s heartwarming to see youngsters try so hard. These future adults can be exhilarated one minute and flat out dejected the next, hanging their heads and skulking off the field if they fail to get on base when it’s their turn at bat.
          Then in a flash there’s mine. In the new inning he’s wearing catcher’s gear, looking serious, professional, older; no sign of any whining. He’s calling the shots. His dad is on the sidelines…wait, what…he’s texting? Yes, he’s keeping mom and brother who are at another game across town apprised of Riley’s performance.
          This all reassures me. On a Sunday during Labor Day weekend a different kind of news is being made. We won’t see it reported with the evening TV broadcasts, but we’ll soak it up, like the brilliant sun, in our hearts. It makes me feel a tad more hopeful for our future…regardless of who wins.  

You might also enjoy:
     Baseball 2012
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