An ERA of Infinity

Frank wants to pitch. He practices pitches against the side of the house pretty much endlessly. He studies pitchers and talks about different pitches. His coach plays him at second base a lot and it's a good position for him. He does exactly what he's told to do. His second favorite position is catcher, which he also plays a lot.

They got creamed tonight. Innings ended because of the five-run rule - that's the rule in Little League where if the other side has five runs then their at bat is just over. I don't think I've seen it so much all year as what I saw last night. The score was 16-0 or something. The other team had three runs so far that inning and the bases loaded, when to my surprise I saw the coach walk to the pitchers mound and gesture for Frank. He talked to him and Frank nodded earnestly, and I realized that Frank was going to pitch. I thought I was going to throw up.

His pitches were over the plate, but they were high - really, really, really, really, not a chance anyone would swing at them high. He stuck at it doggedly, but he walked two runners (8 balls) and two runs came in and the first half of the inning was over.

My son's Little League pitching debut did not go so well. But he jogged into the dugout and while he did not look ecstatic, he looked fine. Better than me, really.

I realized what a perfect time it was to let him pitch. It would be over mercifully quickly. And the damage was already done in the game. It didn't really matter. But it mattered that an 8 year old got a chance to pitch.

"Should I point out that he has an ERA of Infinity?" Bill asked.

Good grief. No.