Six saddest words in the English language...

are "No game on account of rain."

These words haunt you as a baseball player, fan, and as I'm finding out, as a coach.

Last time I heard them I had made the six hour drive home from Philly to Boston for a Red Sox game with family and friends. We stood in the bleachers for an hour, hoping they would play the game, especially since it would be the only time we could see a game together. Finally, those god-awful words were shouted out trough the PA system, and no amount of beer could take the pain away.

Though I tried.

And today, those five words were communicated through an email as I sat at my desk. The Dodgers will have to wait till Saturday to dance, wrestle, spit gum out at their feet, step in gum, and for a short amount of time, play baseball.

So, without a new game to report on, I'll tell you my favorite part of our first game, which was a 5-3 loss.

In the middle of a bunch of things going wrong with hilarious consequences, such as D.G.-- who is a coach-- lending his cup from high school (why it's still in his gym bag I have no idea) to our stand in catcher, leading to the kid looking like that weird dancing guy in that Madonna video "Justify My Love" or the pitcher who came off the mound, was sent to center field and asked D.G. "where is center field?" was a piece of baseball perfection.

A Met batter hit a ground ball through the infield to center field. A Runner was coming around the bases and heading for home. Our center fielder, who usually doesn't throw well, made a perfect throw to our cut-off man. He in turn spins around and throws a frozen rope to our catcher who, an inning earlier, couldn't catch a cold at first. Not only does he catch the ball, but he holds onto it when the runner tries to slide into him.

With a shout and fist pump worthy of the big leagues, the umpire calls the runner out. The crowd, and by crowd I mean a few mothers (one missed the play because she was telling another kid not to touch something) went wild.

But here's the best part. The catcher, whose name is Willie, whips his mask off, strolls away from the plate towards the bench and says "This is Willie's house!"

I'm not one to encourage gloating on the field, but between you and me, it was the greatest thing ever.

Too bad Willie's house is under 3 inches of water.