BASEBALL MEMORIES


As a young boy, I loved my cocker spaniel, Skipper. The dog was mellow and a great companion until a Landlord made us get rid of her. I loved riding my bike. The outdoors and the freedom of riding about was much fun, but more than anything, I loved baseball. I was never very good at it but I loved it anyway. My brothers and I would head for the nearest school yard or park and play "Three Flys Up." One of us would grab a baseball and a bat and toss it into the air and then hit flys or grounders to the others. If you caught three fly balls, without dropping them, you were up to bat and the former batter went out to field balls and took your place.

Sometimes, if you were having a hard time catching the ball, you could throw a grounder from where you stopped the ball and if you could hit the baseball bat, that was laying on the ground, in front of the batter, without bouncing over it, you could come up to be the batter. My younger brother Bob had a far better throwing arm than me and would often get to be batter that way.

As we got to be older, we qualified to join the Little League baseball teams and my team was sponsored by "Sunshine Laundry" and so we wore their name across our uniforms. Their colors were green and white and I remember how proud I was to be in that uniform for the first time. My Dad was stationed at an Air Force base and we practiced and played on one of the their baseball diamonds. I had a grand time but would get pretty leery at baseball practice because the coach would line us all up, about 25 feet opposite each other, and about four feet from the person on our right and left, give us each a baseball and have us play catch to warm up.

That sounds OK but none of our aims were that good and someone was always getting hit with a baseball. You had to watch the person you were throwing to as well as the people on your right and left, to keep from getting hit with the ball. A fast ball, coming at you from a junior leaguer, even though only going about 50 miles an hour or so, can hurt like the dickens, especially if it hits a vital part of the body. I'll let the reader determine what is meant by vital.

Often these little "accidents" were not so accidental. "Oops," they'd say and then snicker. It was a sly way to get back at an enemy. Still the game itself was loads of fun, although sometimes in could get a little boring, especially if you weren't the best player. You might have heard the following song before. I'll only supply the words below:

PETER, PAUL AND MARY lyrics - "Right Field"
http://www.oldielyrics.com/ (Willy Welch)

Saturday summers, when I was a kid. We'd run to the schoolyard and here's what we did. We'd pick out the captains and we'd choose up the teams. It was always a measure of my self esteem. Cuz the fastest, the strongest, played shortstop and first. The last ones they picked were the worst. I never needed to ask, it was sealed, I just took up my place in right field.

Playing...[Chorus:] Right field, it's easy, you know. You can be awkward and you can be slow. That's why I'm here in right field; Just watching the dandelions grow.

Playing right field can be lonely and dull. Little Leagues never have lefties that pull. I'd dream of the day, they'd hit one my way. They never did, but still I would pray. That I'd make a fantastic catch on the run. And not lose the ball in the sun. And then I'd awake from this long reverie. And pray that the ball never came out to me. Here in right field, it's easy you know...

[Chorus] Off in the distance, the game's dragging on. There's strikes on the batter, some runners are on. I don't know the inning, I've forgotten the score. The whole team is yelling and I don't know what for. Then suddenly everyone's looking at me. My mind has been wandering; what could it be? They point at the sky and I look up above. And a baseball falls into my glove!

Here in right field, it's important you know.You gotta know how to catch, you gotta know how to throw. That's why I'm here in right field, just watching the dandelions grow!
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A great message, with a lot of truth. My vision wasn't the best and I definitely knew what it was like to lose the ball in the sun or lights, if it was a night game. Very embarrassing, especially if your family is watching from the stands. As a young man, I learned to hit the ball much farther but enjoyed softball more because the ball was bigger and easier to see. I recall at family reunions and picnics, the feeling of connecting with the ball and knowing it was going over the fence.

When I joined the military and my brother was out of the Marines, he and I would volunteer to be Little League coaches and relive those days all over. Then when I had my own kids, I would volunteer to be a "T-ball" coach. Sort of like baseball, without the danger of being hit by the pitcher.

I never really got into being a big fan of professional baseball. It used to be about the teams but then they let individual players be "free agents" and baseball lost its intrigue for me. Even so, today, when I'm watching some kids at a diamond, play baseball, it brings back those days when baseball was the only sport that made me smile.