text: "Strike!" yelled the unpire. "That's okay, Timmy. Your pitch is coming next." It is another great day for baseball and the local little leagures are playing against their long time rival from just down the road. As Timmy is waiting for his next pitch we find the South Hinton Tigers leading our North Hinton Cubs 5-4. The pitch finally is delivered and Timmy swings. Thwak! It is a long hit over the right fielder's head. Two runs score and Timmy ends up on third base. "Way to go, Timmy. I knew you could do it," I yell. Timmy looks at me with the biggest grin I have ever seen on that boy. The last inning finds North Hinton still leading. South Hinton starts the inning drawing two straight walks. I have to make a visit to the mound. "You okay, Jamie?" "Yeah, coach. I thought they were strikes but that umpire wouldn't call them." "Don't worry about them. Just bear down and get the batter." "Okay, coach." And Jamie does just that. Next batter gets three straight strikes for the first out. The second batter hits a weak grounder to third where we get a force for the second out. The next batter swings on the first pitch and hits a pop up to the shortstop who makes an easy catch. We win. The North Hinton fans cheer. The team crowds around me, their coach. "Way to go, guys. I knew you could do it. That was probably the toughest team we will play." Timmy's mother walks over to the team bringing the drinks. "Our next game is Saturday so we will have practice Tuesday and Thursday. That okay with everyone?" Timmy's mother speaks up, "Thursday is Timmy's birthday. Would it be okay to have a short party after practice?" The team cheers. "Guess that means it will be fine." The team cheers again and crowds around Timmy, each player trying to pat him on the back. "Okay, boys. Two o'clock on Tuesday right here. And again, great game." The parents approach then to collect their all-stars. David Shaw approaches me. "Coach?" "What is it, David?" "Can you give me a ride home. Dad's out of town and Mom is working." I could never say no to anyone who ever asked me for help. "Sure, David. Help gather the bats and make sure all the trash is picked up." David starts picking up bats. "Great game by the way. Knew you had that last pop-up all the way." "Routine, coach. Routine." It only takes a few minutes to get all the bats and make sure the field is free of trash. I would have had to pass David's street on my way home anyway so it was not out of my way. After dropping David at his house I decided I did not want to do any cooking for my dinner so I opted for a stop at Golden Corral. There I can get all the 'good for you' foods and some not so good for you foods with no dishes to clean and put away; no left overs to store in the fridge; totally no trouble. After leaving the Corral I was looking foreward to a peaceful evening with some sixties music and the Stephen King book I an reading. As I pull into my driveway I cannot help but notice a strange car parked across the street. The Johnsons must have company. After parking in my garage, closing the garage door to seal me in, I enter my house. I toss my keys on the counter, tune the radio to the local oldies station before heading to the shower. I seem to work up a lot of sweat just standing there watching my team play. Since my room-mate has gone to Florida for the week I am looking foreward to some just me time. The shower feels great, totally relaxing. Better not stay long or it will turn me into a prune. As I am dressing I hear what sounds like a feeble knock on the front door. Looking through the peep hole I wee someone standing there their back is turned so I cannot tell who it might be. They do not look to be dangerous so I opt to open the door and find out what they are selling. Opening the door I ask, "May I help you?" When the person turns to face me I am stunned. It is a face I had not seen for years and not sure I really wanted to see it now. "Dad! What are you doing here?" "Good to see you too, son." Silence as we stand looking at each other. "You gonna make an old man stand out here in this heat?" "Nothing wrong with the heat. I was just getting ready to sit on the back porch for a bit. But then that is in the heat. Feel free to join me if you like." "Thanks," and my old man comes into the house. "Stlii listening to that damn roch and roll I hear." "My house, my music. You can't take away my music here and yes, it's that good old rock and roll. Maybe a glass of sweet tea will cool you off." Dad sits on one of the porch chairs and I get us both some sweet tea. I make no effort to turn down the music. "Here you go, dad," and I hand him his glass. "So what brings you all this way? Kathy not home? Paul not home so you have to settle for me?" "No, son. Your mother and I thought that after your time in the Army you would come back home. We kind of wondered why you did not." "No offense but I have more friends here than I ever had at home." "But we are your family. Isn't family supposed to be close? You know, blood is thicker than water." "I don't remember it ever being close. You were always in your office and if you came out and it was not for a meal it was to administer a whipping to someone and that someone was usually me." Tears seem to be forming in his eyes, probably from the heat. I had never seen him cry, not even at Granny Blake's funeral. "Sorry, son. You did not come with an instruction manuel so your mother and I made most of our mistakes on you I guess." "That's really comforting to know. You sure seemed to take time with Kathy and Paul." He takes a big gulp of his tea. Silence. "You never liked my music. You never liked the books I read. You never liked the teams I rooted for and I don't ever remember hearing 'good job' or 'I'm proud of you'. You seemed to have saved all that for Paul and Kathy." "But we were proud of you." "What was so hard about telling me that twenty-five years ago?" Again he opts for a big gulp of tea. "When I wanted to play baseball you were nowhere to be found. I had to get help from Mister Delvin across the street. And the only year I got to play was because Mister Delvin paid my entry fee. You never came to a game. For me my home life was miserable. Why would I want to return to that?" "I'm sorry, son. I promised your mother I would pay you a visit and try to patch things up." "So it wasn't even your idea to visit me. There is no quick fix for misery." I regretted saying that as soon as it was out of my mouth even though it was exactly how I felt. Dad put his glass down and stood. "Thanks for the tea. Guess I'll go get a room at Motel 6 and head back home tomorrow." That was fine with me but I had to at least make him an offer. "No, dad. Stay here. I have always had an extra room for you and mom to use if you ever visited me. So stay." "Are your sure?" Oh, no. He is going to accept my offer. Too late to back out. "Yes, dad. I'm sure." "Guess I better get my overnight bag from the car then." While he went to the car, I put in a tape of all the great instrumental songs of the past years, sort of a compromise I guess. With that my me time was out for the night. But mending the fince with my dad seemed to be the right thing to do. I just hope he does not expect me to pack up and move back anytime soon. I am happy here and they will just have to accept that.