Last week was career week at Briggs' school and Rod signed up to go talk to his class. He and Briggs worked all week on their "experiment" to teach the class about electricity. They used potatoes, various metals, and some wire to light up a light bulb. Briggs was so excited about his dad coming to his class that he talked about it all week long. Rod's talk was on Friday and there had been some pretty stiff competition earlier in the week; a fireman, a police officer who brought handcuffs, a vet who brought a dog, an airplane pilot, a dental hygienist, and a dad who got to fly to Germany (although Briggs couldn't remember why). Although these were some pretty great jobs, Briggs was sure they did not hold a candle to his dad. When I asked him on Thursday who had been his favorite so far, he said, "my dad." He was so excited. Then it all came crashing down.....
Briggs got a stomach virus Thursday night and couldn't go to school on Friday.
He was disappointed, but too sick to be devastated. Rod went and talked to the class anyway, and of course was a big hit. He took the video camera and recorded it so Briggs could watch it at home. All the kids were amazed at the experiment. I think I was the most upset about the "bad timing" of the illness. Oh well, I guess there's always next year.
And now for the heart breaker.....
Friday night Briggs' baseball team had a game against one of the best teams in the league. It was a very important game, since it would determine if we stayed in the top spot, and also because they beat us the last time we played them. Friday afternoon Rod began talking to me about Briggs playing in the game if he felt like it. Actually it was more of a heated discussion (or argument). I could not possibly fathom even considering letting him play, as sick as he had been and how weak he surely was. Rod had a different "it's a guy thing" perspective. Basically, Briggs is part of a team and he can't let the team down and he's not a quitter, and other such nonsense that mothers have a very hard time understanding. In the end, we let Briggs decide and he chose to play.
He was so pitiful sitting in the dugout on the ground doodling in the dirt. When he had to go in the outfield, he would take a knee in between batters. He looked pasty and dark under his eyes the entire game. I stood by the dugout the whole game to check on him. But when he got up to the plate, he came alive and had three singles and a double. His team was behind the whole game, until the end when they came back to tie the opponent.
They had to play one extra inning to determine the tie-breaker. The opponent scored two runs and by the time it was Briggs' turn to bat, there were two outs with a runner at first and second. I told the dugout mom that it was too much pressure for a little boy who had been so sick. Then just as Briggs was taking his first swing, I turned to see Max pushing a dump truck right into the parking lot! For a split second I panicked and did not know what to do, watch the game or save Max! Then I came back to my senses and started running and yelling for Max to stop. By the time I got Max back to the field, Briggs was taking his third swing for a ........strikeout. Game over.
During the pep talk after the game, the coaches gave Briggs the game ball for his effort while being sick, a real Florida Marlins baseball. He beamed and was so proud of himself. Then one of the coaches pulled him aside and said,
Someone that comes out and plays
when they are not feeling well;
who toughens up and gives their very best,
do you know what that person is?
I call that person a hero.
And Briggs, tonight you are my hero.
So, you may ask, was I glad that Briggs played?
It must just be a mom thing! After all, that was my baby out there.