I’ve been involved in countless sporting events in my lifetime, ones I’ve played in, ones I’ve watched, ones I’ve reported on and even a few that I’ve coached. I’d be hard-pressed to come up with one that matters more on a personal level than the one I enjoyed this evening.

As you know the Codgers, my Falmouth Youth Baseball AA team — made up mostly 8 and 9 year olds, with 1 or 2 10s thrown in the mix — had a very tough regular season. We won just two games all year, both against the same team, and those didn’t come until the last third of the year. We started out 0-8 and for a while me and Coach Brad wondered if we’d ever get a ‘W’. There were several nights when we talked on the phone and just kept repeating “just one, these kids deserve to win a game. They’ve worked too hard to keep losing.”

Good things come to those who wait.

We might have won just two regular season games, but now we’ve also won two playoff games and are on the cusp of pulling off the inconceivable. If we win on Saturday we’re the league champions. One game for all the marbles against Pizza 1, Subs 2.

You know a full rundown of that will follow over the holiday weekend. For now, let me tell you how we got there, which is quite impressive.

We faced Northeast Insurance tonight, the regular season champs. Basically that team rolled up everyone all season long. They went 9-2-1 and destroyed us. They beat us 9-2, 16-4 and 24-4. Every time we played them, it got worse. They’re coached by a former pro ballplayer, and a very good dude, Raphy Hernandez, and you can tell that his boys know how to play the game.

Maybe they were overconfident. I don’t know, but they were not ready for Round 4 with the Codgers.

Before the game started I just kept reminding our boys that they had the best record in the playoffs. We were 1-0, NEI had a bye, so they hadn’t played a game yet. We told them to just make plays. I took a page out of Coach Lundberg, the FHS basketball coach’s book, and told them to work hard and forget mistakes. ‘Just keep playing,’ he loves to say.

Our guys came out fired up. We pushed across three in the top of the first and we were off to a flying start. Then it was time for the defense to take the field.

In our first round win, a 13-12 nailbiter over Amvets, we had used our ace, Jack, and our No. 2 Gavin, for three innings each. For this game the plan was to start our No. 3, Coleby, and hope to get two strong from him, then go with the other boys for two each. You’re allowed to use a pitcher for only six innings in the playoffs, and we would have had to piece things together if we made the championship, but you can’t live for tomorrow in the postseason, just today.

Coleby made us look brilliant, though. He warmed up with his dad, Bill Andrade the FHS soccer coach, and he was clearly in a good place. I work with our pitchers, and told him not to worry about anything but throwing strikes. We had looked over the previous games with NEI and they didn’t really kill us as bad as the scores looked. We killed ourselves. We walked waaaaaay too many batters, and threw the ball around.

Walks were not an issue tonight. Coleby came out and struck out two of the first three. We got a groundout to end the inning and things were good.

In the second we tacked on four more runs, and then Coleby threw another shutout inning, with two more K’s. We didn’t score in the third, but Coleby was on again in the third. We gave up an unearned run, but on that one NEI got a little lucky. My guy, Rye, made a fantastic stop on a screamer that was headed for right field, but he was so excited at picking the ball that all of that adrenaline led to him air-mailing first base by about 20 feet. That run eventually scored, but still we were up 7-1.

In the fourth we got an RBI triple from Jack Jordon, our top player, and he then scored on an overthrow to make it an 8-run game. Gavin then threw a scoreless fourth.

In the fifth we didn’t plate any runs, but neither did they. In the sixth Carter Leighton, one of our most improved players, came up and hit a little infield single that went for three bags when they threw the ball around. It was like the teams had switched places. They were making the mistakes and we were the ones capitalizing. It was fun to be on the other side of that. Leighton scored when the catcher overthrew the pitcher on a throw back to the mound after a pitch, sliding in like a big leaguer with tons of gusto.

With the sun fading, and a 9-run lead, the writing was on the wall. We just needed to fade a comeback and we would be okay. They got three against Gavin in the last inning, but he got out of the jam and struck out the last batter to start a big celebration.

Now we’re one game from going from worst to first, in the same season. It’s been quite the turnaround.

The team we’re playing on Saturday is pretty good. Like NEI, they beat us three times too. The scores were closer, though, and I really like the way our boys are playing.

Sometimes it all comes together for a team. You start to get the breaks. The players make plays.

Our slogan right now is “why not us.”

I can’t think of a single reason why not. I wish Saturday was tomorrow.

Sometimes it is very difficult to be a dad. Tomorrow is one of those days.

The Codgers play their first playoff game at the Little League Field at 11:30 AM. We’re playing Amvets, the only team in the league we’ve beaten this year. We’re 2-1 against them, 0-9 against everyone else.

We’ve got a great shot to move on to the second round. We’ve got our pitching in order, and our bats have been pretty darn solid of late. I like our chances quite a bit.

Here’s the problem — I won’t be there.

A couple weeks back I booked a wedding for June 26. I had the date open, inexplicably, and could not say no to a decent pay day on short notice. It would be irresponsible of me, as a father and businessman, to not jump at the opportunity to put more food on the table. You have to take work when it is available, especially in our economy. It’s not like people are throwing $100 bills out the windows and you find them on the streets like old scratch tickets outside a convenience store.

Of course the wedding is from 10 AM to 2 PM. The game begins at 11:30 and will probably end around 1:30 or 2. I won’t see a single pitch.

Yes my heart is broken. I need the Codgers to come through for old Coach Rich so that I can be on the bench one last time (or two if we pull off a miracle).

This is worse than finding out I had to miss out on prime Red Sox tickets because of work. This is worse than missing a Pearl Jam show. This is just the worst because I’ve poured everything I’ve got into this team. I love coaching these kids, even though it can be quite exasperating at times. It’s a constant battle to remind myself that they’re only 8 and 9 years old and the mistakes are going to happen.

I remember my baseball coaches saying that physical mistakes are okay, but mental ones aren’t. When they’re so young the mental mistakes are physical mistakes. Stay with me and I’ll explain. The brain of a kid that age is not fully developed, thus it is a physical thing. They try their hardest to do the right things, but sometimes they forget where they are supposed to be on the field, and thus can’t get to balls that they should get to. They weren’t in position, because of the mental part, and that leads to physical errors. It compounds. It’s frustrating as all get-out, but you have to deal with it.

Of course then there are the plays they make that just make you say “wow,” especially when they make plays that are of the variety that you cannot teach. On Saturday our best player made one of those plays when he faked a move back to third to get the catcher to commit to throwing the ball and then did a 180-degree turn and sprint to the plate to score a run. On Tuesday Rye was headed home, and the catcher had the ball and was waiting for him. Instead of running into the out, he dispy-dooed his way around the catcher, weaving his hips to avoid the tag, and then touched home with his left foot, sliding it on the plate as he passed by.

You can’t teach that stuff. They just figure it out, and it’s mind-blowing to see it happen. When a kid covers the bag on a play that you’ve never gone over, or takes the extra base because he sees no one is covering on his own, it just makes you smile. Those are advanced plays, and sometimes they just get it, and when they do it shows that you’re getting through a little bit.

Of course there are the days when the games go too long, and they remind you how young they are. True story, but I won’t divulge names to protect the guilty and innocent.

During a recent game I came out of the third base coaching box back to the dugout after the final out to find one of my players in tears. I thought he must have taken a spill and broken his arm or something, he was nearly inconsolable.

What happened. Through the sniffles he said that one of the other guys had gone through his stuff. I didn’t understand why that would make him cry, but I told him we needed him out on the field and sent him out there.

Turns out that one of the players had gone through the kid’s stuff and pulled out his underwear, and then made fun of him for wearing tighty whities, that were stained. I’m not sure who the actual guilty party was, but it was really difficult not to crack up at the time.

These are not exactly the things that Tito Francona has to deal with on a regular basis. They’re the types of things you’d expect to have to deal with at a sleepover with kids of this age.

I mean I’ve had to tell kids that they can’t play Nintendo DS on the bench, that they can’t sit with their parents during a game, that they can’t take someone else’s gum just because they want it. The list goes on and on. Sometimes it’s coaching, sometimes it’s babysitting.

But I’d give anything for a chance to babysit/coach Saturday morning. Say a prayer for me, maybe I will get to coach on Wednesday.

I nearly cried yesterday. It was getting really dusty in the old dugout around 5 PM at the Little League Field.

After losing our first 8 games, some closely, some not so much, we finally won one. It was a dominant win by the Codgers, who rolled to an 18-11 win over Amvets. It was the best Father’s Day present ever.

It didn’t look like we would get it done early. The first inning was another entry into our patented “One Bad Inning” Syndrome. It happens every game, and this one it was out of the box. We hit the ball well in the top of the first, putting up 3, but they got six as our starting pitcher, who hadn’t pitched before in a game, struggled. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was mechanics, maybe it was coaching, but he couldn’t find the plate and they took advantage.

But the Codgers bats were alive. Every player in our lineup on this day reached base at least once. We had a couple of triples, a couple doubles, a bunch of singles. We just kept crushing the ball, it was a beautiful thing.

And our coaching strategies were sound on this day. We went to our second best pitcher early, putting him out there in the second inning and he battled. He didn’t have his best stuff, but he did the job and kept us in the ballgame.

In the top of the second we got the lead, but then they got it back. In the third, though, we rallied again and took it for good.

Our league has a rule that ends innings after 10 batters. I made my best coaching move of the year with our 10th batter of the inning up.

Here’s the situation, we had runners at second and third and one out, but the outs didn’t matter because Jaden was the last batter of the inning no matter. The other coaches decided to intentionally walk our free swinger, instructing their guy to bounce the ball in, knowing that the inning would end as soon as the man took first.

So, I told my runner on third that as soon as ball four crossed the plate to break for home and get into a rundown. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I said “just do it, trust me.”

Wouldn’t you know it, the move worked. The catcher was dumbfounded that the runner was bearing down on him, and came after him and then threw it away. Jack scored easily from third and we almost got the other man in from second before the coaches finally got their catcher to hold the ball and wait for the play to end, but we stole another run and had complete control.

Gavin came back out for the bottom of the inning and rolled. We got one more in the fourth and then brought in Jack, our top pitcher, for the fourth inning. He mowed them down and the game ended on the time limit.

Our guys were ecstatic. They doused me with water like we had won a championship. Maybe there were no trophies, but it sure was a great afternoon and sometime I’ll never forget.

Rye was so happy that we finally won, and he scored his first run of the year. He’d been so close, but had been stranded on third several times. He strolled across home plate in our big third inning rally and jumped on the dish like he had just scored the winning run of the World Series, hopping on it with both feet triumphantly. I wish I had a picture of that moment, but I’ve got the memory.

This is a busy week, we’ve got three games in three days, starting Monday. After that the playoffs begin this weekend. We’re not about to get cocky, but maybe — just maybe — it’s all coming together.

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By the way, I haven’t forgotten you, my readers. I was on vacation the last week or so. It killed me not be writing about the NBA Finals and the resurgent Red Sox, but when you’re on vacation you really need to step back from work, at least that’s what my wife kept telling me.

I know it’s been a while since I posted, but Coach Rich is a busy guy. I don’t seem to have more than a minute or two here or there to think straight, so I apologize to the readers for not keeping up.

Right now the Codgers stand at 0-5 on the season. That’s right we’re winless and I don’t see an eight-year old Kelly Leak showing up on a motorcycle any time soon, and we don’t have a pitcher with a heart of gold and arm of fire either.

Coaching is certainly fun, but the challenge is greater than I expected. I came up with a pretty cool motivational tool at our latest practice and it worked like a charm. Many college football teams give out pride stickers for good play that the players decorate their helmets with. Seeing that stickers wouldn’t work on wool hats, I bought a Sharpie and started to put silver dots on their hats when they do well. It seems silly, but the kids are eating it up and paying better attention and trying hard. You can’t ask for more than that, but it would be nice to get a win.

The other big challenge, outside of motivation, is dealing with parents. We’ve had a couple of situations already where parents’ expectations regarding their child’s talent was out of whack with reality, and another where we were criticized for sitting a player down — at practice — for hitting another kid.

This really is one of those thankless jobs a lot of the time. It makes you question your sanity. I watch a friend of mine that coaches at Falmouth High School, whose son is on my team, sit back and relax in a beach chair at our games and soak in the sun and he’s got a huge smile on his face at all times. He sees the stuff that goes on on the periphery, and he’s had to deal with it plenty at the high school level.

He giggles.

But there are rewards. One of our least talented players had one heckuva an at-bat the other day, before striking out. He fouled off like four pitches and hung tough. I was proud.

And our hardest worker is trying so hard all the time you’d think he was running for office. He leads the team in silver dots on his hat.

And then there’s my guy, Rye. He’s up there in effort, but a little low on offensive results. It’s coming. He’s getting better for sure and he’s played some great defense, including throwing out a guy trying to stretch a single into a double the other day with an-point throw to second base to get the out. It was awesome.

There’s the reward.