The Smell of the Leather Glove, The Sting of the Bat

When I was a kid we played a lot of baseball. We lived in a subdivision, but had a fairly large backyard. We had a baseball diamond, and the bare spots for the "mound" and bases lasted for years after we outgrew our little diamond.

We usually played our games with a tennis ball, to make sure there was no damage to our house or the neighbor's. You can throw a tennis ball hard enough that you need gloves to play. We used my dad's broken softball bats (fastpitch)or some of the neighborhood kids had their own bats. Of course they were all wood. I had a Roger Maris autographed model. I did not like it because it was not a Louisville Slugger. My grandparents gave it to me as a gift. I did not see an aluminum bat until I was in my teens.

Games usually started early in the morning and lasted all day. Kids would come and go as they were allowed, leaving for lunch or whenever their Mom called them home. Often you had to switch teams to keep things even. We kept track of balls strikes and outs. The fun was THE GAME. My brother and I would go in to eat supper and the game continued until we got back.

It was hot and sometimes Mom would make everyone Koolaid. More often we got a drink from the hose. There was no reason to go inside, it was just as hot there. We did not have air conditioning. No one I knew had air conditioning. There were only three channels and the soaps were on during the day, the news in the evening. That was nothing I wanted to watch.

I coach my son's baseball teams now. He is very good, but I knew more about the how to "play" the game than he does. Playing every day you learned about what would happen in game situations, how to move, how to play the ball, how to read a hitter and a pitcher. These things he is learning through organized and structured play. I learned through peer pressure, intimidation, and ridicule. Is he better off?

One thing I do share with my son is a deep love of the game, the nuances of play, pleasure in a well hit ball or catch. The sheer joy of the diamond, the smell of the leather glove, the sting of the bat are all memories I hope he can share with his boy someday.