Baseball Days--and Where's My Bat?

I started playing on baseball teams in the summer of 1952--Amarillo, Texas (where Dad had been stationed at the Air Force Base during part of the Korean War). I had just finished second grade, and I played on a softball team--the Ticks. That's right--ticks. We had bright green T-shirts with a large white tick on the front--oh, how I wish I still had it. The tick cracked with repeated washings.

I played center field. One fly ball came to me the entire summer. I didn't move an inch; the ball landed right in my glove. I dropped it.

I didn't like to swing the bat that summer, so I hoped for walks. That was about it for me: W or K--all summer.

The years went on. Back in Enid, Okla. (the Korean War over), I played on a Kiwanis team (see photo at the top --I'm next to the coach). I played shortstop and was not exactly an Omar Vizquel. I was more like a scared little boy, thinking: Please don't hit it toward me!

But confidence grew. We moved to Hiram, Ohio, where I lied to my first coach when he asked if anyone had experience as a catcher. I said I had. (The only experience I'd had was getting tagged out at home plate. And hearing the opposing catcher laugh when the ump called strike three on me.)

But I found--surprise, surprise--that I could catch pretty well--as long as the pitcher wasn't too awesome, and that wasn't much of a problem in Hiram, Ohio, in the late 1950s.

I played in high school--started thinking I was pretty damn good. Then, the summer after I graduated from high school, I played on an American Legion team over in Newton Falls, and that was where I learned I was not "pretty damn good"; I was pretty damn bad.

Career over.

Later, I would enjoy playing catch with our son--watching him play (I was even an assistant coach one year)--watching our grandsons play. I was on a couple of (slow-pitch) softball teams.

And then Age and Self-Respect said: Enough!

I still have a mitt. I'm not sure why.

I don't have a bat--but today I wished for one.

Why?

My damn wireless printer/scanner was not responding. I tried the logical things. The intelligent things.

Didn't work.

Wished I had a baseball bat.


PS--It's working! Didn't need that bat after all! Glad it's gone!