By Jason Fields

In the four years my son, Isaac, has participated in the South Riverdale Little League, I’ve seen plenty of Riverdale parents dragged into a world not originally of their choosing.

Little League baseball demands a commitment from kids, coaches and parents, especially when it comes to the teams that tour outside Riverdale in summer and fall, whether you’re part of North Riverdale Baseball League, South Riverdale, or Kingsbridge.

The games played are far less casual than the local spring leagues. Kids have to make the team, rather than just joining in a community event at Kappock Field or Seton Park. The travel team kids are passionate about the game, and make sure their parents get them where they need to go on time and in proper attire.

Not all of us parents were born for this. I know I wasn’t. But as the years have gone by, I’ve noticed that some of us have changed.

Elizabeth Bottcher is the mother of Justin, who turned 12 on Sunday. She, and her husband Lucas — originally from Germany — are people of an intellectual bent. They bring books with tongue-twisting titles to games.

Over the years, though, they have slowly converted. From a hostage, Ms. Bottcher — who teaches at Columbia University — has become an organizer, raising money to keep the team on the field and working to ensure the coaches, Mike Farber, Jon Auerbach and Liz Luboja, are properly thanked for their time and extraordinary effort to mold boys into solemn professionals on the diamond.

And Mr. Bottcher, addicted to soccer and marathons, has made himself an expert on the great American game. Perhaps it’s his knowledge of human anatomy that has somehow taught him how to hurl a baseball around the horn so hard he can break the hand of the person catching it. Don’t worry, Justin plays soccer too.

For the July 4 weekend, the team signed up for a tournament held in Chester, N.Y., 60 miles from the city and Riverdale.

The boys lost their Saturday games, while the parents tried to bear up under a sun so hot that iced coffee became steaming-hot in moments. The smell of sunscreen was as thick on the field as it normally is on the beach. The two games the kids played were spread out, and lasted all day, getting us home around 9:30 p.m., sticky and gasping from heat exhaustion.

We were expected back upstate by 8:30 the next morning.

Wow.

My wife and I cursed bitterly, put the boy to bed, set our alarm clock with resolve, and were in the car by 7:15 a.m., sans coffee.

We arrived and gathered again with the South Riverdale Parent’s League, laughed a little at ourselves and the seriousness of our kids, all of us looking for a little shade.

Love can lead you to some strange places. Even Chester, N.Y., on a Sunday morning.