{"id":5915,"date":"2015-07-18T17:51:20","date_gmt":"2015-07-18T16:51:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/?p=5915"},"modified":"2015-07-18T17:51:33","modified_gmt":"2015-07-18T16:51:33","slug":"t-ball-parents-from-hell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/2015\/07\/18\/t-ball-parents-from-hell\/","title":{"rendered":"T-Ball Parents from Hell"},"content":{"rendered":"

Title: T-Ball Parents From Hell, Literally.<\/b>
\nAuthor: <\/b>Nickle<\/strong>
\nPosted: <\/b>04\/04
\nEmail<\/b><\/a>
\nRating: <\/b>PG
\nCategory: <\/b>Humor
\nContent: <\/b>A\/C
\nSummary: <\/b>Probably the last two parents you\u2019d want to see at a t-ball game. Just a little slice of life scene, mainly because this came to me a few hours ago while at a game myself. Pure silliness.
\nSpoilers: <\/b>None
\nDisclaimer: <\/b>The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
\nDistribution: <\/b>
\nNotes: <\/b>
\nThanks\/Dedication: <\/b>
\nFeedback: <\/b>Is yummy and delicious, like an apple-crumb muffin.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cBatterbatterbatterbatter SWING! Oh yeah\u2026that\u2019s it. C\u2019mon, one more\u2026..batterbatterbatterbatter SWING! HoooooBoy. Go home and have some more twinkies, doughboy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cordelia looked around to see if anyone heard Angel\u2019s muttering and elbowed him. \u201cKnock it off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel ignored her and grinned at the third baseman, hunching his shoulders down to communicate that the boy needed to crouch and be ready. Cordelia sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, ya gotta just enjoy the game. We signed him up for a night league specifically so you could see the games\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, this is great. My boy. Third base. George Brett. Brooks Robinson. Freakin\u2019 Mike Schmidt. And Conner.\u201d Angel grinned widely. \u201cDid you see him field that easy dropper that that little porker tapped?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, you have to shut up.\u201d Cordy was exasperated. Her whisper became fierce. \u201cYou don\u2019t know that that little porker\u2026.I mean little boy\u2019s parents aren\u2019t sitting right here by us. Shut up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel squinted as Conner\u2019s coach traded shortstops. \u201cOh man, not Travis. That kid couldn\u2019t hit the side of a barn\u2026.\u201d Two rows down, a woman looked back and glared. \u201cOh, hey, Ms. Blackman. Travis is\u2026lookin\u2026.good.\u201d Ms. Blackman glared a moment more, and turned back around with a huff.<\/p>\n

Angel nudged Cordy, who had buried her face in her hands. His voice was an incredulous whisper. \u201cI mean, Travis? Shit. The teams never gonna get the pennant with his fielding.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor the last time, there is no pennant. They\u2019re all five. There\u2019s 8 games, there\u2019s some little medal that everyone gets at a crappy pizza party at the end of the season. There\u2019s no pennant. There are no playoffs, there\u2019s no world series. Some of these kids don\u2019t even know where to run after they hit the ball. This is T-Ball, and you\u2019re being obnoxious.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, well, I can see why they wouldn\u2019t win a pennant\u2026\u201d he sighed as Travis tossed
\na wild ball that careened to the left and hit a lightpole just behind the on deck circle. \u201cBecause they suck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re five, Angel, just like Conner\u2026.he\u2019s five. Five years old. You get this, right? They\u2019re all kindergartners. None of them have ever played before.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, yeah, but at least Conner\u2026.\u201d He broke off, standing and clapping loudly when the batter on the other team swung and tapped the ball a few inches off the tee into the small circle drawn around home plate.<\/p>\n

Cordelia yanked at his arm and his clapping tapered off as he noticed that no one else was clapping and parents from both teams were sending him dark glares.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re supposed to be supportive, Angel\u2026.of BOTH TEAMS.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s stupid. This is a competition. Our son is a Bulldog\u2026we cheer for the Bulldogs. We do not cheer for the other team.\u201d He snorted. \u201cEspecially when they\u2019re the Unicorns. Holy shit. Who thought that name up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, jeeze\u2026here we go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI mean\u2026the Bulldogs\u2026yeah, there\u2019s a name\u2026.the Tigers\u2026.the Warriors\u2026.names you can get behind\u2026but the freakin\u2019 Unicorns?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, I swear\u2026..\u201d<\/p>\n

10 batters later, Conner stepped to the plate. As the game had been going for almost exactly one hour, he would be the last batter of the game. Angel leaned forward anxiously, gripping his hands together. Cordy leaned over and whispered, \u201cHe\u2019s five, Angel\u2026this is t-ball. There are no scouts from the Yankees here. Chill.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel ignored her, muttering to himself as Conner carefully tapped the bat against each shoe and then threw his dad a big grin and a thumbs-up. He wound up and let loose with the bat, smacking it gently off the tee. The ball dropped to the ground and rolled to the boy on the pitcher\u2019s mound, who scooped it up and threw it to first. The first baseman dropped it and Conner sped on by, rounding the corner to go to second.<\/p>\n

Chasing the ball on short, chubby legs, the first basemen threw it vaguely towards second. The second baseman, a tall skinny girl with braids, raced out to get the overthrow. Conner trucked on around second and barreled to third, his little legs churning as fast as they could.<\/p>\n

Angel was on his feet, yelling, as the second baseman finally got the ball and threw it neatly to the third baseman, who dropped it and started crying as it rolled away. Conner plowed on past him and charged home, grinning as he ran over home plate.<\/p>\n

Angel bellowed out \u201cCONNER\u201d as the teenaged ump called out \u201cGAME.\u201d Cordelia sighed as she began to gather up their things. A smiling woman in front turned around to pat Cordy on the arm sympathetically.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least he didn\u2019t threaten to eat the umpire this game.\u201d She chuckled at Cordy, the chuckle fading as she met Angel\u2019s stony gaze. \u201cUmmm. See you next week.\u201d And the woman scampered down the bleachers and out to get her son.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe called Conner out.\u201d Angel whispered to Cordy. \u201cAnd clearly, Conner was safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLALALA\u2026.I can\u2019t hear you\u2026.\u201d Cordy replied in a singsong voice as she began to step down. \u201cJust keep to the deal. No more threatening to eat anyone\u2026.no more flashing of the vamp face, no more menacing of anyone\u2019s child.\u201d She turned to face Angel as he climbed down beside her. A soft grin tilted her lips. \u201cC\u2019mon, Mickey Mantle. Get the boy\u2026.if you\u2019re good, I\u2019ll take you both for some ice cream.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel nodded and trotted off towards the bench where his son sat, listening to the coach.<\/p>\n

Cordelia watched, grinning to herself as Travis\u2019 mom walked up to her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t mean to be rude, but your husband\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know\u2026I am so sorry.\u201d Cordelia responded wearily. \u201cHe\u2019s just a little excited\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, yeah\u2026.\u201d The woman looked at Cordelia, her mouth drawn into a taut line. \u201cTravis is a sensitive child, unused to aggressive roughhousers like your husband. And may I say that your son seems a little\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Angel stood and talked with the coach for a moment, grinning at Conner as the coach commented on the boy\u2019s abilities. Suddenly, a shriek rang out over the stillness and Angel looked in time to see Cordelia smacking both hands at Travis\u2019 mom, who was swinging an insulated cooler wildly at Cordelia\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

Both women shrieked in anger, and all conversation around them had ground to a halt as the teenage umpire raced over to separate the two women.<\/p>\n

Fifteen minutes later, the Plymouth roared down the street as Angel gripped the steering wheel, trying to not laugh. Cordelia slumped in her seat sullenly, staring out into the night.<\/p>\n

\u201cBaby\u201d Angel\u2019s voice was strained with the effort it took to not laugh. \u201cI thought we were all clear on a little thing called \u2018sportsmanship.\u2019 After all\u2026.\u201d He grinned.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just a game. Ya just gotta enjoy it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The End<\/b><\/p>\n

Nickle<\/a><\/b><\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Title: T-Ball Parents From Hell, Literally. Author: Nickle Posted: 04\/04 Email Rating: PG Category: Humor Content: A\/C Summary: Probably the last two parents…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5915","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-completed-fics"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5915","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5915"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5915\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5915"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5915"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5915"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}