When Does The Game End?

I have a love hate relationship with the game of baseball.
I love that my LoveBug loves it, can play well and pays attention when sitting on the bench.
I hate the Little League mentality.

Saturday LoveBug had a noon game. He was 15 min late because his Korean school gets out at noon. I was there waiting for him and there when the game started…at 12:08. (Sadly I have learned and found to look at my phone for the exact time of anything involving Little League…it’s done me no good.)

There we all were cheering our team on. We were playing the undefeated team.
We were losing.
The whole ‘we started late' so we can play late had already happened…:/ LoveBug had a piano recital that afternoon and I sat there wondering…
…’do they think this is the ONLY thing happening in the world?’
I had said my bitchy piece only to get shot down yet again by a huddle of Men(?) that had had their dreams shattered and would berate Women and Children to make them feel better.
It was the last inning and we were up up to bat and the Coach, the poor guy is only there to verbally assault 7 and 8 year old boys…and his son is gonna need serious therapy, had only called 3 boys up for the line up(?). The three boys had batted and the coach stood there wondering why no other boy was ready. He comes over to the dugout, a pissed look on his face and his anger is noticeable as he wears it on his sleeve…he says…
…”Who’s up next?! Why isn’t someone ready?”
Remember he had only told 3 boys to be ready…
He walks out on the field and says…
…”Let’s just end this now.”
We didn’t have three outs, we were up to bat and he didn’t finish the inning…he just stood there and quit…after arguing that they needed more time to play because they started late.

Last night, Tuesday…we had a game. Be there at 5pm for practice 30 min. before the game starts. Ok…I’m there on time with my Children, our dinner packed in a cooler because we had to leave at 4:30 and won’t get home till 8…then showers and bed time.
The game started at 5:28…yes, I looked to see the time…I’m turning into the bitchest of all bitchy Women.

Note…Men wonder why Women are bitchy…they create the bitch in us with their douche bag behavior. It’s not us…it’s them.

7:15 the ‘last’ inning ends. I know this because one of the other Mom’s and I had checked our phones for the exact time. The boys from the other team, the losing team, run out on the field and line up with dignity. Parents have started packing up their shiz and we are ready to go. The ‘Umpire’ (a Dad from the losing team comes out on the field and talks with the the coaches. He has decided the games ‘last’ inning ended at 7:14.

Note…Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. If you think any of this ridiculousness is about one fucking minute you would be sorely mistaken.

I stand up and say…
…”It’s 7:17. Why are we starting a new inning.”
Coach…”Khirstin", or whatever the fuck he called me this time, “we can start a new inning if the last one ended before 7:15.”
Then the douche bag Dad/Umpire from the other team decides he needs to yell at me...
…”The last inning ended at 7:14 we can still play!”
Me…”The game is over. Can we use some common sense and see that. These are 7 and 8 year old boys that have school in the morning.”
Douche bag Umpire/Dad…”The game isn’t over."
This goes on and don’t think I let it go…I can admit when I’m wrong and say so. I’m not wrong this time.
The Umpire/Dad had decided in his little mind (according to me and several of the other parents) that maybe they could tie the game.
Our Coach didn’t have the back bone to stand up and say…
…’It’s over. The last inning ended at 7:15.” to the other Dad/Umpire.

So they continued to play as my blood pressure went noticeably through the roof.
I had lost yet again.

Here are somethings I’ve taken away from this fiasco…

I was respectful for a time, until ‘they’ decided that our time is not worthy of respect. This happened at the first practice I had attended after the coach had sent out an e-mail saying practices would be from 5:30-6:30…At 6:30 the parents start packing up…the Coach kept the boys till 7. I kept my mouth sorta shut. I was wondering that perhaps I had made a mistake…
No. I hadn’t.
It has been made clear to me now that our time is not worthy of respect by those involved with this association.
The 'end' of the game has consistently/every time so far, been determined that the 'last' inning always ends at 7:14. It doesn’t. Or that they started late…
They can’t conceive or understand that the game is over…or our Coach just quits in the middle of an inning he argued to have!
Last night the boys understood that the game had ended…the dad's didn’t.

My son’s Coach continues to verbally abuse the boys and one Mom had to say last night that he wasn’t to talk to her son that way…
I understand a need for sternness but…
They will drop balls.
They will strike out.
They don’t know yet where to throw the ball.
They are 7 and 8 and will get bored sitting on the bench.

My Ex is out of town for a bit, has been most of the month it seems. He knows of my frustration but doesn’t know I want to take my son out of this mess because I don’t want him to think this is how adults should treat Children. I’m embarrassed of my own behavior because I refuse to sit by as all of us on the stands and those Children in the dugout are disrespected.

I want this to be my last rant about Little League. It has left a very bad impression on me. The behavior of the Men involved is sad…

Ps
If they want to have a dick measuring contest I’ll go out and find the longest, thickest strap on I can.

Pss
I’m so classy.