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Just a Game
Learning Not to Keep Score
By Mark Stackpole
After the game, a father beamed proudly as his son was named the MVP of the game. My neat handwriting earned me the chance to write his stats on the "Player of the Game" ball that served as the award. Manuel didn't appear to fully understand what the award meant or why he was getting a ball with gold writing on it, but he couldn't stop a shy grin from breaking into a big smile when he received a rousing round of applause from the crowd. We were all proud of Manuel, though I was even more pleased to see the unhidden emotion extending from father to son. In a way, I guess, as "team photographer" and "MVP award ball writer," I found a way to become a part of the Pirates family. It's still not the same, though.
The game itself was a wonder to behold. The crack of the bat was more of a soft thud as the aluminum bats made contact with the sock-filled rawhide. The catcher fielded a throw and proceeded to watch as three runners crossed the plate directly in front of him, oblivious to the fact that a tag has to be made in order to record an out. When a ball went into the outfield, just about every player went after it, and then had no one left in the infield to throw it to.
Alie was so pleased with her first hit, which should have been a double, that she stood on first base, screaming, "I DID IT!" at the top of her lungs with her fists thrown ecstatically into the air. Steve, working as first base coach, did not yell at her to stay focused or to stop celebrating and run to second. He did exactly what he should have done – he clapped enthusiastically and gave her a high-five.
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