I like baseball. No, I love baseball! For me it's not just a sport, it's a passion. I love everything about it - the feel of the grass under my toes...the smell of a well-oiled leather glove...the crack of the bat (on wood, not aluminum!)...making a diving catch in the outfield...all of these things put me safely in that happy place where we all long to be. Now, I must admit my attitude toward America's past time has been tarnished by greedy owners & players, rampant steroid use, and cheating (to name a few black eyes), but I still love the game.
I credit dad for this passion. It started when I was a young boy; if there was a Phillies game on television or radio when we were with him, you can bet he usually had it on. We attended Reading Phils games whenever finances permitted (the benefit of living in a minor league town) and sometimes even made the trek to Philadelphia to sit in the nosebleed section of Veteran's Stadium (700 level) and watch the little ants...err...guys play. Mike Schmidt, Greg Luzinski, Gary Maddox, Bake McBride, Steve Carlton, Willie Montanez, Dave Cash...we loved them all. Well, Mike's allegiance leaned more toward the Baltimore Orioles, but I forgave him of that a long time ago.
Because of my parent's separation I didn't have much occasion to play catch with dad or any other male role model. As a result, I got a late start in playing the game. But I never let that - or the fact that I was small & skinny for my age - dissuade me from doing my best. I never got the chance to play Little League. Instead, a bunch of us neighborhood kids spent our summers on a field near the trailer park. Mom always knew where to find us. That's where I broke my nose. While playing catcher, a pitch glanced off the top of my glove and hit me square in the nose. It bled like a sieve!
I remember my sister Melody being the best 2nd baseman around. Mike was young but pretty good, too. My goal was always to hit the ball over the fence, but I don't think I ever did. With a lack of power at the plate, I instead concentrated on defense. Even now I'd rather run & dive in the outfield than step into the batter's box. Those were fun times; so many memories on that little field near Carsonia Park.
Mike and I created a lot of great memories at home, too. We spent many, many days playing whiffle ball in the front yard of our trailer on Midland Avenue. We made up our own rules, too - grab a grounder before it stopped rolling and it was an out; a ball that stopped before you got to it was a hit; a ricochet off of Elmer's trailer meant a home run. I don't know how many times he came out swearing at us for hitting that tin can! That is, when he was home. We even kept our statistics in little notebooks. I think Mike still has those in his attic.
By the time I reached high school I still hadn't played on a real team. I managed to spend a summer as a Little League umpire thanks to a friend named Leonard Krug, but being part of an official team had escaped me. My biggest problem was timing at the plate. At the end of my senior year I decided to go out for the legion team and made it! Legion baseball is big in Pennsylvania. It's basically summer ball for high school players so they can keep their skills up in the off-season. I spent most of the season on the bench, but did get to walk in a run against the fearsome Boyertown Bears. Making the team gave me the confidence to do something I always wanted to do - try out for the Reading Phillies.
Every year, the Reading Phillies held tryouts at Municipal Stadium for area hopefuls. It was more of a marketing stunt, but it did give them first-look at up-and-coming talent. I remember that dad came to watch me play. It meant so much to see him sitting in the stands cheering me on. I got to bat once and struck out (no big surprise), but I also caught a fly ball in centerfield. I will always cherish the memory of playing on the same field as the Reading Phils!
After high school I decided to play slow-pitch city league softball. I didn't have to worry about the speed of the pitchers and there was plenty of opportunity to run and dive. I think my first team was Remp's Iron. This is where I really cut my baseball teeth. I had finally found a ball field where I could excel! I quickly found that speed was my best asset. You see, many slow-pitch players share the same, rather large feature around their waists. They had great power at the plate, but this skinny kid could move faster in the field. I remember one particular shoestring catch that saved a game. I wasn't close to being the best on the field, but I could contribute.
It was during these early days of softball that I learned an important gospel lesson. We played a lot of games during the week, but also had a fair number of Sunday games. I had worked my way into being a regular player. I was having fun and doing what I liked best, so keeping the Sabbath holy by avoiding sports just didn't fit my agenda. But then a strange thing happened. I made the decision to play on Sundays, but for some reason the coach never put me into the games. Week after week I sat on the bench during Sunday games. I know for a fact the coach knew nothing of the decision I had made, but still there I sat. I soon decided that my time was better spent going to church and treating the Lord's Sabbath with more respect.
I have to add something really neat that dad did while I was serving my mission in Japan. It had been a very long time since the Phils made it to the World Series, so when they did in 1980 dad was determined not to let me miss it. He recorded and sent me every single game of the 1980 World Series! I can still remember lying on the floor in my bed listening to the final game: Tug McGraw won it in relief and the whole stadium went wild. So did a 21-year-old missionary in Katsura, Japan. Howbeit a few weeks after the fact.
After mission came school and then marriage & family, leaving little time for softball. But I found a way to slip it in where possible. While in Utah I managed to play a little and even work as a scorekeeper for Provo Parks & Rec. Then came a long, 10-year drought where the only action was church ball. It was while playing centerfield in our annual stake tournament in Berkeley Springs that I banged up my right ring finger fielding a screaming line drive (they said it wasn't broke, but we could sure see the knuckle bone). Man did that hurt! Then in 1995 another dream came true.
As program director for WJAL-TV in Chambersburg PA, one of my responsibilities was negotiating our sports contracts. We carried Big East football & basketball, WVU football delay games, Washington Redskins, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Baltimore Orioles. As a "reward" for affiliates, the Orioles invited a few people from each station to their annual Media Day at Camden Yards. Upon arrival we were ushered into the visitor's locker room, changed into souvenir jerseys at the actual lockers, and then got to take batting practice & shag flies on the field. I even won a fielding award. I can't tell you how great it was to see my name & photo up their on the Jumbotron - it was a dream come true! I got to meet a few players, too (like catcher Rick Dempsey). Needless to say, Mike was supremely jealous. We repeated this activity for two more fantastic seasons.
The station also had the chance to sponsor the local Hagerstown Suns, a minor league franchise located in Maryland. We had several big promotions there, and I had the opportunity to wear several mascot costumes for some of them (Michigan J. Frog & Pinky of "Pinky and the Brain" fame). It was at their stadium that former Blue Jays player George Bell played a practical joke on me. We were busy shooting a promo for an upcoming event when suddenly I felt a bee buzzing around my ear. Instinctively, I jerked to the side waving my arms wildly around my head. Upon hearing laughter I turned to see Mr. Bell, who had just simulated the sound of a bee at my ear by rubbing two fingers together. Baseball players are well-known as practical jokers.
While living in Martinsburg, we enrolled Shannon, Meghan, and Sarah in the girl's softball league for several years. It was really neat to see them pick up and enjoy the game. It really felt like, as far as softball was concerned, my life had come full circle. Now living near Charlottesville, I've had the opportunity to play on the same city-league softball team as both Meghan and Sarah (my employer, NBC29, is kind enough to sponsor teams). Meghan also played catcher & outfield for the Monticello Mustangs in her senior year, taking 2nd in districts.
So as you can see, both baseball and softball have been very, very good to me. I've had the chance to meet some great players (Larry Bowa, Rick Dempsey, George Bell, and Dale Murphy to name a few). I've been blessed with terrific memories, from going to games with dad to playing whiffle ball with Mike to watching my girls learn to appreciate the game. My favorite teams are the Phillies and the White Sox. Mickey Mantle, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Tris Speaker, and Frank Thomas are four of my favorite players. I love the old players and can't understand how they ever allowed an owner to be baseball commissioner. And I hope with all my heart that they have baseball fields in heaven.
