A Local Baseball Game

Saturday morning brought warm temperatures and sunny skies. A perfect day to head to the beach before it got too hot. Plus, we wanted to check out the local baseball field, as we had noticed a sign listing 3 games, the first one beginning at noon.
As we were returning from the grocery store, readying to depart for the beach, our friends on Hi-5 arrived. We chatted with them for a bit and then it was decided that we would take Connor to the beach while Kerry and Julie got organized with Dylan at the boat and had showers. Then we would all reconvene at the ball game.

The beach here is said to be pink. We were skeptical, though curious. We had noticed an increasing number of pink shells as we continued north through the Exumas and wondered if these were the shells that were contributing to the colour. In fact, where the waves lap at the shore and the sand is wet, it doesn't take too much imagination to agree that there is certainly a blush tone to the sand. The contrast between the turquoise water and pink sand is spectacular. We now know why some beach houses are painted the colours they are. (Though these colours always look much better in their natural state!) At the beach sandcastles were built, sand sculptures created and the kids generally covered themselves in sand! Close to noon, we rinsed in the water, and headed for the ball diamond.

Baseball is a big thing here! The golf carts were lined up along the fence, BBQ smoke rose from the snack hut, and two teams, one in blue shirts, one in burgundy shirts took to the field. The teams, one from Spanish Wells, one from the neighbouring Russell Island, were 6 - 9 year old boys and girls who were cheered on by families in matching shirts in the stands. The blue shirts were the locals, definitely the favorites. However, based on the attitudes of the coaches and parents, it was the burgundy team who had much more fun. The blues were very serious, tracking everyone's hits, misses, balls and strikes; praising only home runs, admonishing misses or slow runners. The burgundy team members always got a 'nice swing', or 'that's OK, try again' from their coach, who was also the pitcher (overhand, I might add!). When a burgundy player hit the ball right into the blue shortstops' knee, it was the burgundy coach who came running to pick her up and gently carry her back to her bench with the nonchalant blue coach ambling beside him. You don't see that kind of sportsmanship in the major leagues!!
The next teams up were a bit older, and much more serious. The pitchers wore sleek sunglasses and constantly checked over their left shoulder to see what was going on with the runner on first base. Many home runs were hit in the few minutes of the game that we saw before heading out.