by Joy Dombrow
Ten minutes before game time found me sequestered in my warm and quiet car, squeezing in a few minutes of productive reading as my son and his team readied themselves for baseball. Occasionally I would glance up to see them rotating through drills in heightened anticipation of finally being able to play a game after such a long stretch of rain outs. As I returned my thoughts to my book, I soon heard the faint, but distinctly injured cry of one of the players. With a squinted view through the windshield, I could tell that the coaches were tending to one of the boys on the ground. My eyes scanned the field looking for my son’s number, but when I could not land upon it, I knew that it was he who had been hurt…
Disclaimer: Articles featured on Oregon Report are the creation, responsibility and opinion of the authoring individual or organization which is featured at the top of every article.