We have been waiting months, but spring is finally here and that means that baseball is in full swing. The Opening Day festivities are behind us and, from here on in, weekends and evenings will be filled with baseball. 

I’ll admit it. I am a die hard, tried and true baseball fan. I have spent my whole life cheering on the Red Sox and, no, I’m not the least bit quiet about it.   There is no way for me to deny it. I am a loud, exuberant and, sometimes, obnoxious baseball fan. I fear that my neighbors, and those who have sat next to me at Fenway Park, can confirm it. I’m not very good at holding back.

Not really a terrible flaw. I love my team and I show it. Problem is, however, what happens when it is Little League and not the MLB that I’m watching?  Dare I actually say it out loud? Sometimes it’s hard to remember who I’m watching play the game.

As a mom I love watching my son play baseball. In all honesty, I love watching all the kids play. Nothing quite compares to seeing a baseball uniform, a brand new hat and a broken in glove ready to go for the season. 

There is nothing more exciting than watching kids learn the game of baseball and take their experience to the field. It’s hard not to get excited to watch them play. Cheering them on comes naturally and, face it, every kid loves to hear their name when they do something great on the baseball diamond.

The beauty of “in town” baseball is that, by the time your child is in Middle School, you, as a parent, know and have a relationship with most of the kids playing. You get excited when they do well and, if you are like me, you give them all some very enthusiastic support.

Problem is, however, for every player excited for an amazing catch, a successful play at the plate, a strike out pitch or a shot over the fence there is another who is sadly disappointed. For every winning team there is also one that lost. 

As the mom of a pitcher I find the biggest dilemma is the strikeout pitch. The temptation to scream at the top of my lungs and cheer my son on is always there but the realization that his glory is another player’s pain is there too.  A strikeout pitch is heaven for the child on the mound but, lets face it, it’s not so much fun for the one in the batter’s box. 

This weekend I watched several Little League pitchers that I know well deliver quite of few of those strikeouts. One was my own son, another a teammate of my son, the third was the opposing pitcher and the last was a close friend.  These four boys were all amazing on the mound. 

They kept their Opening Day jitters to a minimum and made the day a memorable one. Of course, in doing so, they broke a few hearts too. 

Without a doubt the tables will turn throughout the season and each player will have their moment in the spotlight. There will be home runs, game winning hits, game saving plays and, yes, more than a few strikeouts. 

Without fail there will also be lots of moms there to cheer the winners on and, at the same time, to console those who didn’t have such a good day. It’s what moms do. 

Sometimes we just do it a little too loud!