I'm sure I would have had a huge goofy smile on my face watching Charlie play baseball even if he was free of disease. But something about watching the kid with diabetes out-hustle every other kid on the field, just made my heart burst wide open with pride.

He wasn't the fastest. He didn't hit the ball the furthest. He didn't throw the hardest. But sweet lord, that little firecracker played with passion.

Planted on the pitcher's mound, he became an instant fan favorite by throwing his body in front of sharply hit line drives destined for the deep edges of the outfield. The parents and coaches laughed as he looked like a hockey goalie under assault, flopping around on the ground, making save after save.

Before practice, I wondered what to do with the pump. (READ MORE)

rotojournal.blogspot.com

Charlie will play organized baseball for the first time tonight. He's super excited. It's also the first time he will have a coach other than me. I've coached Charlie's soccer team for the past few seasons.

This doesn't make me nervous though. It actually allows me to have my eyes on him a little closer now that I won't be dodging soccer balls launched at my head or wearing 40-pound children as slippers. But it does necessitate some fair warning to the coach regarding Charlie's diabetes. Not just for safety purposes. I like the coach and I don't want to put him in an embarrassing situation. (READ MORE)

He lunges from left to right, securing his black Pumas against the goal post and suffocates the bright-orange hockey ball before the marauding yellow team can squeak it past him.

When the whistle stops play, he glances over to make sure we're watching. Happy as a clam behind his helmet's cage and bopping his head up and down like a parrot.

"Way to go, Cholly!" one of the fathers yells, slouching comfortably  in his folding chair.

"His name is Charlie," his son says, stressing the "arlie."

"Well here in Philadelphia, we say Cholly," he says proudly, adjusting his thick gold chain around his deeply tanned neck. (READ MORE)

Frank Warren (The Web Warren)

Since the first time Phil Southerland and Joe Eldridge were featured on dLife TV, I've been a fan of Team Type 1. There are a whole bunch of reasons for this, ranging from a small university living group whose members included amateur cyclists serious enough to design and build their own frames, to The Other Half's supermagnetic attraction to the TV during the Tour de France, the use of common interests to help other people improve their health and quality of life, and the intrepidness and hard work needed to take the dream of a message-oriented pro cycling team and make it reality. (READ MORE)

I’m the assistant coach for Charlie’s street hockey team. The "blue team." For the first few weeks of the season, we looked like the Bad News Bears. We were scoring in our own goal, holding hockey sticks the wrong way and one kid may have yelled "touchdown!" when we scored our first goal. We were losing games by large margins and watching our opponents celebrate often.

Winning is nice of course but it is so much sweeter after you’ve tasted a fair share of defeat. Maybe the same can be said for managing diabetes. We measure our success by how far we’ve come.

On this day, the blue team had enough of losing. They played with a ton of heart, ending their losing streak with a giant 7-2 victory.

  (READ MORE)