Grandma vs. Little league

It was Saturday, little league day.   The entire field behind the school was active with the back to back ball diamonds full of boys from pre-little league to pony league.  This was a weekly event for my family.  My brother (and my boyfriend) were on the team that my dad coached.  No girls allowed to play.  So I watched.

Our team was on the last diamond this week, furthest back from the field.  As my mother and sister and I sat waiting for the game to begin, I heard a loud BEEP sound of a car horn.  I looked up toward the sound and saw a large blue Cadillac driving on to the field.  Then another loud BEEP.  The car kept coming.  Another beep.

The big car bounced up and down with the front and back ends touching the ground as it traversed the bumps of the pitcher’s mounds on each field.  I heard yelling as kids were running out of the way as the car continued to come and beep for the players to move out of its course.

As it came closer, to my horror, I recognized the car.  Time moved at a microsecond and seemed to stand still as I realized…yes it was my grandma and she was coming to us.

A rush of embarrassment came over me.  I pictured everyone looking at us as she bumped along over the fields, continuing to beep and, as I now could see, waiving at the players to get out of her way.

I wanted to hide underneath the stands, but I was paralyzed with fear.  Maybe no one would know she was looking for us, I thought.

As she came closer, I could hear her voice. “Billy, Billy,” she smiled, yelling and waiving.  She was calling for my dad as he rushed toward the car.  It was over now.  Everyone would know she belonged to us.  As I she stopped in the middle of the last baseball diamond, I saw each and every man, woman, boy and girl on all the fields stopped in their tracks, staring at the car, my grandma and my dad.  Still paralyzed with fear, I just sat there frozen.

“Mom, what are you doing?,” my dad yelled.  “You could have hurt someone.”

She exited the car, laughed and walked toward the trunk pointing.  “I brought a cooler full of drinks and snacks for everyone and I didn’t want you to have to carry it all that way,” she said.  “So I figured I would bring it to you.”

Oh yes, everyone heard.  A pin could have dropped in the silence of the inquiring minds.  Then there was laughter and awe that someone would have actually and intentionally driven over all the way those fields.

I looked at my mom next to me, head down with her hands covering her face.  I was still frozen.  Life was over, I thought.  This stigma would last forever.

But then, balls were once again in the air.  You could hear the wood smack of bats and chatter of the players and spectators.  Maybe it would be all right or maybe not.  The car was still in the middle of the field.

The car began on a reverse course.  This time slower and no beeping or waiving, as everyone parted the way.  My poor dad had to return the car to the parking lot on the only possible trajectory – again through the baseball diamonds, avoiding the pitcher’s mounds.

As we shook our heads at the unbelievable event, my grandmother sat down next to us smiling.  “Did you hear…I brought everyone snacks.”