This blog is supposed to be about what happens on the fields of our dreams - in our case, softball fields.
Two weeks ago last night, in the early hours of Monday, August 25th, my father died. He waited until after midnight, because it was my mom's birthday. She was calling him home. He always listened to her.
I went back to St. Louis for the funeral, but I wasn't going until Wednesday. What to do about the Monday night Conehead game? Well that is obvious, go play. Harold would tell me to.
I don't remember much about the game - I was a bit distracted. I remember we had a Conehead inning to put away the game, and I was the last one up and I made the first out. I remember Randy hit a home run, Sting hit a couple of triples, and he drove in six runs. Chuck went 5-5 and Johnny 4-4. Every single teammate gave me heartfelt condolences.
These are the facts, and we won going away 18-2. Damn we are a great team.
But I want to tell a different story. It was something I heard during the week of mourning in St. Louis.
I have a cousin Jerry. He was my first babysitter. That makes him older than Joe. In fact he is 74 years old. He still plays on a softball team. He plays second base too. He doesn't play senior ball - he is on a regular rec team playing against and with 18 year olds. He told me his arm is gone but he can still catch the ball, and he does go up to the plate looking for a walk these days.
Jerry told me this story. Last year or earlier this year, a friend of his was supposed to throw out the first pitch at a St. Louis Cardinal game, but something came up and he couldn't make it. He gave the opportunity to Jerry. I asked him if he was nervous, and he said he was until he took the mound. He got to the top of the mound, toed the rubber, and a calm came over him. He wound up and he pitched - he had no idea where it was going to go - and the ball was a strike right in the catcher's mitt. It had movement too, he said.
Shane Robinson, a Cardinal who has been up and down between St. Louis and Memphis (the Cardinals' AAA team) for the last couple of years, was the designated catcher for that pitch. He came running out to Jerry. He told him that there had been some that threw a strike standing at the foot of the mound, and there had been some that didn't bounce it to the plate standing on top of the mound, but he had never seen anyone throw such a perfect pitch in that situation.
Anything can happen in this world.
Milestones:
Sting 40 3b (#4)
Sting 400 r (#8)
Sting 200 g (#11)
Johnny 50 ab (#36)
Two weeks ago last night, in the early hours of Monday, August 25th, my father died. He waited until after midnight, because it was my mom's birthday. She was calling him home. He always listened to her.
I went back to St. Louis for the funeral, but I wasn't going until Wednesday. What to do about the Monday night Conehead game? Well that is obvious, go play. Harold would tell me to.
I don't remember much about the game - I was a bit distracted. I remember we had a Conehead inning to put away the game, and I was the last one up and I made the first out. I remember Randy hit a home run, Sting hit a couple of triples, and he drove in six runs. Chuck went 5-5 and Johnny 4-4. Every single teammate gave me heartfelt condolences.
These are the facts, and we won going away 18-2. Damn we are a great team.
But I want to tell a different story. It was something I heard during the week of mourning in St. Louis.
I have a cousin Jerry. He was my first babysitter. That makes him older than Joe. In fact he is 74 years old. He still plays on a softball team. He plays second base too. He doesn't play senior ball - he is on a regular rec team playing against and with 18 year olds. He told me his arm is gone but he can still catch the ball, and he does go up to the plate looking for a walk these days.
Jerry told me this story. Last year or earlier this year, a friend of his was supposed to throw out the first pitch at a St. Louis Cardinal game, but something came up and he couldn't make it. He gave the opportunity to Jerry. I asked him if he was nervous, and he said he was until he took the mound. He got to the top of the mound, toed the rubber, and a calm came over him. He wound up and he pitched - he had no idea where it was going to go - and the ball was a strike right in the catcher's mitt. It had movement too, he said.
Shane Robinson, a Cardinal who has been up and down between St. Louis and Memphis (the Cardinals' AAA team) for the last couple of years, was the designated catcher for that pitch. He came running out to Jerry. He told him that there had been some that threw a strike standing at the foot of the mound, and there had been some that didn't bounce it to the plate standing on top of the mound, but he had never seen anyone throw such a perfect pitch in that situation.
Anything can happen in this world.
Milestones:
Sting 40 3b (#4)
Sting 400 r (#8)
Sting 200 g (#11)
Johnny 50 ab (#36)
No comments:
Post a Comment