A "Boy of Summer"; Reminiscing on the Past

Not sure of when I first fell in love with baseball, but my guess is when a friend's parents invited me to a San Antonio Missions (a Cubs Double A affiliate at the time) game at old Missions Stadium when I was in the second grade. I still vividly remember that evening - walking into that stadium with it's green, manicured grass, the orange/brown infield dirt contrasted by the brightness of the chalked batters box and foul lines. We sat in awe as the teams took infield smartly snapping up everything hit to 'em and the sound of the pitchers warming up on the sidelines. I don't remember who won or lost that summer's evening, but I do remember sitting for 2+ hours mesmerized by every play, every sound, every scent. I'm sure that on that May evening in 1959, my life became bound to a sport.

There is so much about this game that I love. As much as baseball is visual it's also a game of sounds, the loud "pop" of horsehide hitting a well oiled leather glove, the crack of the wooden bat making solid contact with a fastball, the cry of the Ump -"Steeee-rike" or the nervous chatter of ball players in the field, the sound of your cleats on the dugouts concrete floor. It's smells - the scent of a new glove, the scent of pine tar, a freshly mown infield, and digustingly enough, the smell of your sweat through wool uniform & hat. On occasion, right after you foul off a pitch, you can even smell a burning odor. And there are even tastes. Super Bubble bubble gum, sunflower seeds, the occasional chaw of Redman, the "Suicide" soft drink after the little league game, the gritty sand and acrid tast of the chalk after that slide at the plate, the chili pies after the game at the concession stand and of course the pizza at the post game team get together.

There are sights that I still carry in minds eye of playing the game. A fat pitch, looking for all the world like a beachball, a sinking liner that maybe, just maybe if I stretch a little more...., a runner barrelling down on you as you wait for the throw, that instant where you arrive at the bag awaiting the umpire's call - safe or out?

But most of all, the camaraderie of teammates. I miss that the most. There is an irreverent humor, a sometimes not so gentle ribbing of everything. Teammates, opposing players, coaches, umpires, spectators - no one was immune. Some of my best laughs have come in those hot, sweaty dugouts. Guys finding humor in the most innocuous things. June bug races, sunflower seed spitting games (distance, accuracy, trying to get them to stick to the back of someone's uniform), taping someones glove to the bench so he can't take the field, bubble blowing contests. Sometimes the game on the field was secondary to the games in the dugout. Like I said, silly things, but they're moments that bond.

I began playing little league at 9 and played or coached until just a few years ago. The game stayed the same. New teammates, new teams, new leagues, but always the game stayed the same. Specific memories? I have so many, but the ones that came to mind first - my first glove (my dad made it out of canvas & packing straw), my first caught fly ball at 9 (we lost like by 33-2, but I caught the ball!!), the first time I got to play catcher (I lunged forward for a pitch & was knocked unconscious), my first allstar game at 11( all-bench baby!), my first JV tryout (made the team), my first Varsity tryout (made the team), my first rebellion against authority (My Senior year we got a new coach and he decided to play all Juniors and build for next year. So I took a roll of tape, marked off a section of bench and marked it "Reserved For Bill Powers - Senior" - he didn't like that much. I asked him "Whattya gonna do, bench me?"), my first dose of reality (after school I played semi-pro for the Longhorn Exporters, 1st game we faced a 50 year old ,overweight Hispanic pitcher who totally screwed me into the ground with his curveball!), my most favorite moment - coaching both my sons into high school.

This has been fun, and I have opened a floodgate of memories here. I think for now I'll end, but I may revisit his subject again - soon.

Bp