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      Play ball~please!

      Put me in coach, I TMm ready to play, today. -- John Fogerty, 1985 Centerfield

      We TMre nearing the end of May, and already four of our girls softball games have been cancelled because of rain. They TMve yet to hit the field, and they are anxious to get some dirt on their mitts. Now, by the end of the season, I TMm doing the rain dance, hoping for a game to be called off. By then I TMm tired of dragging my tired self out to the ball fields four nights a week. The days are long and the mornings come early, you know? However, at the start of the season, I TMm ready to get the ball rolling. Alas, Mother Nature has other plans.

      All the rain outs have forced the issue of texting, something I swear I TMd never bother with. In fact, I ranted in a column earlier this year that I TMd never join the ranks of texters. This week, I threw in the towel and gave in. But what does rain have to do with texting you ask? My husband coaches our girls TM teams. He TMs a patient and kind teacher, developing a love of the game for the girls under his tutelage. He does, however, have a real job and he doesn TMt do phone calls. That TMs the secretary TMs job. In other words, me.

      If you do the math, calling the players on two teams requires me to dial 275 numbers. That TMs individual numbers, not the number of calls, but I TMm trying to paint a picture here. And as I TMve explained before, I TMm not much of a phone talker.

      These rain-out calls typically go something like this:

      Me: Hi. I TMm calling to let you know the game is cancelled tonight.

      Parent: Yeah, I figured. It TMs raining outside.

      And while you TMre dialing the numbers to make the next call, some other parent is buzzing in, saying, Just wondering if we have a game, you haven TMt called.

      So as of this week, no more calls. I broke down and signed up for texting. It took a solid two hours to figure out the proper protocol and enter the data, but it TMs done.

      I sent my first text and sighed with relief. Then as I sat down to eat, the phone starts going into spaz mode. Twenty-five texts come ringing back with messages along the lines of: OK, got it, thanks. My foray into texting may only last until we hit a dry spell. And while I did renege on my vow to never text, I can assure you this: I WILL NOT TEXT AND DRIVE!

      Just let it ring folks. Click here to take the pledge for yourself.

      Take care ~Sarah