“Mom, I don’t know how I’m going to play baseball today! My hands hurt so much,” my ten-year-old son, Luke, cried to me, the morning of the All-Star game. And to his credit, he wasn’t faking it. I could see the raw skin, what was probably the start of some blisters on the palms of […]
I had heard about Travel teams, how they went all over the county playing various sports. Those families who were involved were always on the go, always busy, missing so much of life. The siblings were merely tagalongs, flotsam flowing in the wake of the Travel player. I always said I’d never let my kid play, never put the Boy’s sister through that.