Last week, at my son’s baseball game, I was peer pressured into keeping the Official Book. I’ve never ever kept the books at a baseball game, and barely know the official numbers of the outfield positions. But, a trusty friend turned to the front of the book, motioned to the directions, and wished me luck.
I mean, it was 7 year old baseball, but still. I was feeling a little stressed.
So, I quickly read over the directions, and looked through some of the previous entries to get my bearings, and started serving as Official Book Keeper. Luckily, baseball moves slowly, and 7 year old baseball moves even slower, so I was able to keep up. But, as the second inning began, there was a batting order mix up…and I had a freak out moment. I was sure I was the one making a mistake, with all of my ten minutes of experience on the job and all, but I quickly surveyed some people around me, and they all agreed I had to stop the game.
So, I did.
And there was a middle-of-the-field-conference to discuss the discrepency in the details of the documentation. (sorry, got a little carried away with my alliteration there).
Anyway, it turned out I was right, and there was a batter left off the list. By the time the issue was resolved, a veteran book keeper had arrived, and I quickly surrendered my duties, but planted myself by his side to learn the tricks of the trade.
For next time.
Because, I’m thinking there are A LOT of baseball games in my future, and I might as well be prepared.
But, I had to brag that those first few innings I ROCKED the 7-year old baseball books, and now I’ve got some mad skillz.