This story stinks

Ethan was pooped on twice tonight. Once literally, once figuratively.

He had a Pony League game at a field near Northern Bedford High School. It was just the two of us, because Emmett had a Little League game at the same time.

(Quick tangent: Last night, Emmett’s team was behind 9-0 going into the fourth inning. At the end of the fourth inning, the score was 9-9. At the end of the fifth, it was 12-12. Emmett’s team failed to score in the bottom of the sixth. In the top, alas, the other guys pushed one over.)

As I was driving along, Ethan suddenly growled, “Awwwwww!” He started brushing something off his arm and the front of his uniform.

“What? Did you spill something or—?”

“Look!”

He held out his arm. There was a little white splash on it.

“Ewwwwww!”

“It came in through the window!”

“No way!”

“Yes way.”

“No way!”

“Dad, get over it.”

“You know how the high school graduation was held last night in the football stadium?”

“Yeah, so?”

“If the speaker said to the whole crowd,  ‘Raise your hand if you’ve ever been pooped on by a bird while riding in a car—’”

“Okay, Dad.”

“ ‘—and convertibles don’t count,’—”

“Dad—”

“—how many would raise their hands?”

It turned out to be an omen.

To make a seven-inning story short, Ethan’s team was behind by three runs with one out left, with two men on and Ethan was up. The count went to 2 and 2. The pitch flew. Called strike three.

It hit the dirt right behind the plate. Everyone saw it as low. I know the losing side always says that, but how often does this happen? As everyone was clearing out, the opposing coach came over and held out a folded $20 bill toward Ethan’s coach.
“That was just wrong. Here, take it. Take the team out on me.”

Ethan’s coach appreciated the gesture but shook off the money.

Ethan took it hard. The call took away a hitting streak. That’s rough at thirteen. I had to refrain from my usual joking for several miles. You can’t ride a kid when bad stuff is coming at him high and low.

To the unknown bird: Ya Goof!

To the unknown ump: Thanks for your service. I trust you did your best.