*Names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, and especially the embarrassed. Any resemblance to actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
It was the kind of humid afternoon in Fort Myers where tensions ran just as high as the temperatures. The stands were packed with parents, each with their eyes glued to the game, but for the Mayer family, the real action was brewing off the field.
Jack, normally the quiet and observant type, was unusually vocal today. His son, Brady, wasn’t putting his usual effort into the game, and Jack, despite his usually supportive demeanor, couldn't keep his coaching hat off. “C’mon, Brady, put some heart into it!” he shouted, his voice carrying across the stands.
Beside him, Regan, his wife, had reached her boiling point. “I don’t even know why you come to these games if you’re just going to yell,” she snapped, her annoyance clear to everyone within earshot.
The crowd shifted uncomfortably, sensing the issue unfolding. Jack, oblivious to the side glances, continued his rant, “I don’t even know why we pay all this money if he’s just going to act like he doesn’t want to be out there.”
Another travel dad, Ryan, chimed in with an “Amen, brother.”
Regan had enough. With a huff, she stood up, announced, “I’m done here,” and stormed off.
Silence fell briefly, until Corey, another dad known for his quick wit, leaned over to Jack with a grin. “Oof, you’re in trouble now. Couch for you tonight, huh?”
Jack just chuckled, shaking his head with a grin. “All good, bro. I drove separate.” The dads around him burst into laughter as Jack pointed proudly to the parking lot where his trusty old truck was parked, his getaway ride ready and waiting.
As the game continued, the phrase “I drove separate” became a hilarious reminder of Jack’s earlier debacle. Parents started using it in every possible scenario. Missed a play? “No worries, I drove separate.” Forgot the sunscreen? “All good, bro. I drove separate.” It turned into the day’s inside joke, lightening the mood and bringing the parents together in a wave of laughter.
Even Regan couldn’t stay mad for long, especially when she returned to find everyone chuckling and sharing their own "I drove separate" stories. By the end of the game, Jack’s faux pas had transformed into a legendary tale of marital strategy and humorous defiance.
The Mayers left the field together, Regan playfully nudging Jack. “Next time, maybe just cheer a bit quieter, or you’ll be driving to a singles’ mixer.”
The laughter that followed them out of the park was proof that in the world of travel baseball, sometimes humor is the best way to slide through a sticky situation. And as for Jack, his “All good, bro. I drove separate” line didn’t just save him from a long, silent ride home—it made him a legend of the league.