My oldest son Ryan has played baseball since he was 4-years-old. As he’s progressed so has the intensity. Any parent with a son or daughter in sports knows the score. As in years past Ryan had to “tryout” to be placed on a team.

The entire concept of a tryout is amusing because every kid gets placed on a team. My best guess is the tryout allows the coaches to figure out what kids suck so they can spread them evenly throughout the teams. What does it matter? We all have a place in this world. The unathletic kids will end up in marching band with brightly colored plumes on their hats or own Microsoft.

On the day of the tryout the testosterone was pumping. Dads were barking orders like seasoned drill sergeants. By the looks of things several of these coach-dads never played baseball. None-the-less it’s always amusing to watch men being manly. At one point I was so overtaken by the testosterone flow I wanted to break out the “Redman” and spit on the grass, but I refrained.

My son tried out, I was really proud and we went to lunch. I didn’t think anything of it. In the weeks following the parents were all a buzz. “Who did your son get for a coach?” “What round was he drafted?” One dad in particular was so fired up he literally chased me down with a frantic look in his eye. I just wanted to shake him and say “relax little fella its friggin Little League.” Again, I refrained.

As the lists of teams began to circulate and we hadn’t received notification, I have to admit I panicked. OH MY GAWD! My kid is so crappy he didn’t even make a team! I envisioned him playing Bob Seger on his tuba with a yellow feather and saddle shoes. I literally became frantic and placed calls, sent e-mails and stalked coaches like a star struck fan. It was truly unbecoming.

By Monday evening after an entire weekend of dread, we receive an e-mail with Ryan’s team assignment. Low and behold his two good buddies were also on his team. At that very moment I began to realize that kids don’t care about a team assignment, the good or bad players or who they have for a coach. It’s all about friendship.

Tuba player, baseball player or artist, I will always love my sons for whatever they become … but for the record I am happy Ryan’s not on a lousy team!