My wife was snapping pictures, knowing this was another stop on a farewell tour of sorts.

In less than a month my son, Alek's, high-school level baseball career will end, and less than a month after that he will be a college baseball player.

The American Legion season concludes later this month, hopefully with a trip to the state tournament.

After that it is on to college and a whole, new ball game.

Until then we still have time to pack in a few more memories.

Last week we were in Salina for a tournament, the second year in a row we have made the trek to the Sunflower State.

Unlike last year when we didn't think too deeply about it since Alek was just a junior and his final season was a whole year away.

Well, that year went fast.

This year had a different tone.

Most of the boys will not be back next year, as they are graduating. All are heading to college, some will continue to play baseball, most are playing their final games this year.

One thing is for certain. This group of boys will never play baseball together again.

Most of have been teammates since they were 10 or 11 years old, learning the finer points of the game on a traveling club team.

Those days were not too unlike games today.

Packing the car with coolers and baseball gear to head to ballparks around the state.

It was a new experience for us all those years ago, a long way from the little league I played.

Back then I never dreamed there would be tryouts and teams that traveled to play other club teams.

Never thought about uniforms and team jackets, buying the right kind of bat. The thought of all that would have seemed foreign to me.

But my son dived head first into baseball and hasn't stopped since.

You get nostalgic thinking back on those years when those "little" kids were running around the bases.

Time has gone by quickly, and this month will go by even quicker.

As the families gathered in the dining area and spilled into the lobby of the hotel last weekend, it wasn't a trip down memory lane as much as another opportunity to share some laughs, hash over the games and talk about our everyday lives.

Of course this was lost on the kids.

Their time, when not at the field, was occupied by food, swimming and frisbee golf (frolfing, as it's called).

Time is lost on kids, and that's OK. It's only when you get older and have built up some memories that you spend time reflecting.

To these kids, time has its own place. Time is how late you can stay up, how soon dinner will be ready, how soon you have to be at the field and it moves at its own pace.

After you have a few years under your belt you understand that time adds up.

So you take pictures knowing that at some point you will pull out these old photos, look at them and think back to when these boys were young and life meant coolers, late-night laundry and baseball.

Patrick Murphy, of Columbus, Neb., is a former assistant managing editor of The Telegram.