⚾️ Travel Ball Families Enter 3-Week “Recovery Period,” Pick Up Extra Shifts to Pay for Fall Ball They Secretly Hope Gets Rained Out

All Across, AL — The dust has finally settled on another season of travel baseball, and local families are now entering what experts are calling the “one-month off-season,” which is just a fancy way of saying they’re working three extra weekend shifts at the plant, pawnin’ a kayak, and skipping Nana’s 80th birthday to pay for fall ball registration.

"It's not really a break," said Sheila Mae Turner, who hasn’t sat down since May. "It's more like a financial halftime where you try to catch your breath and refinance your house."

Her son Braxxton (with two X’s), age 9 but built like a tax-paying 27-year-old, just wrapped up playing in 14 tournaments across three states and six counties — all of which somehow happened in 113-degree weather and next to a water treatment plant.

“We drove to Muscle Shoals, Mobile, Memphis, and a parking lot in Clanton that had chalk lines and a dream,” said his dad, Brent. “We spent $600 on hotels and he struck out twice and got stung by a wasp.”

Now the Turners, like dozens of others across ALABAMA, are digging through couches for tournament fees and asking serious theological questions like, “Would the Lord be upset if we asked Him for one well-timed rainout?”

Fall ball registration opens Monday. Tryouts are Tuesday. Uniform orders are Wednesday. And the mortgage payment was due last Thursday.

“This is our month off,” said Jason Lee, whose son plays for the North Alabama Scorching Turfs, a 9U team with three coaches, two hype videos, and one working bathroom. “But I picked up four doubles at the warehouse just to pay for his new EvoShield leg guard that he refuses to wear.”

Some parents are holding onto hope that their kid decides they might want to try a different sport, like basketball or underwater welding — anything cheaper than a new glove, cleats, helmet, backpack, belt, and matching dry-fit for Mom and Dad.

Others are realistic.

“I know I’m going to spend $900 this fall to watch my kid draw dinosaurs in the dirt and argue with the ump about whether a ball touched the plate,” said Lindsay Walker of Morris. “But we’re in too deep. We got the travel ball tattoo.”

Fall season begins in 3 weeks.

Just enough time to pick up another job, sell the boat, and get mentally prepared for the 4-hour doubleheader that starts at 8 a.m. in Cullman and ends in a meltdown in the Burger King parking lot.

The Real Doss Ferry Chronicle Bringing You the News Between Tournaments and Tire Rotations