Wednesday’s Words of Wisdom (And Whimsy)

Posted on August 28, 2024 under Wednesday’s Words of Wisdom with one comment

A field of dreams

“Take me out to the ball game,

Take me out with the crowd,

Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks,

I don’t care if I never get back.”

Take Me Out to The Ball Game – Jack Norworth

Summer is in its rapid decline and September lurks. You can feel it in the air. The days are getting shorter and the “Back to School” sales are in full force. In a few days’ time, the midway will roll into town, and we’ll be batting away flies and wasps at the cotton candy stand at the Eastern Nova Scotia Exhibition.

Speaking of batting.

I’m a sports junkie. I played many sports in my youth and still follow golf, hockey, baseball and football on television. I will watch just about any sport on TV if I happen to be bored… even darts. Cricket still baffles me. I’m warming up to soccer (football in most parts of the civilized world!).

I rarely attend live sporting events anymore. Sitting on hard grandstands doesn’t hold much appeal. My 73-year-old body doth protest when I sit in one spot too long.

Last week, I saw a post on Facebook announcing the 2024 U13 Eastern Canadian Softball Championships to be held here in my hometown. What an opportunity to re-live my youth so I wandered over to Dr.J.H. Gillis Regional school to catch a few innings… and to rekindle my youth.

As I made my way through “Liquor Lane”, a convenient path on campus for university students to get their groceries and beer, I started to have flashbacks. The path on which I was walking was once the field at the bottom of Bishop’s Bowl. Unless you’re ancient and a local, this won’t evoke a response.

I grew up just a few short steps from the university. In a wide-open field on the edge of campus (which has been transformed into a massive parking lot), I spent countless hours of my youth playing ball. On a street where families of 6-8 children was the norm, it didn’t take long to round up a couple of teams. We used old scraps of wood for bases. We scraped up enough money from collecting beer bottles and pop bottles and selling them to Pete Poirier to buy cheap gloves. No uniforms. No coaches. No umpires. Very often, the stitching on the baseball would come loose.

We played our hearts out. We were Mickey Mantle dreaming of swatting mammoth home runs or Sandy Koufax striking out the side. When we became bored of our own company, we challenged other streets in Antigonish. A quick call to Highland Drive or Brookland Street was all it took to arrange a friendly (?) pickup game. Bragging rights have always been an integral part of sports. Unorganized sports are some of my fondest memories.

A bat. A ball. A glove. Simpler times.

On a trip to San Francisco in the spring of 1974, I got to see the Oakland A’s play a double header. They were fresh off their second consecutive World Series championship. Their legendary lineup included the likes of Reggie Jackson, Catfish Hunter, Rollie Fingers and Vida Blue. My back was much stronger back then and beer sales removed any discomfort that might have appeared after sitting for 5 hours in a ballpark.

Back when the Montreal Expos were Canada’s darlings, a few of us took a road trip to see a couple of home games in Montreal. We didn’t have enough money for a hotel and spent the first night of our travels sleeping on picnic tables in a park somewhere in northern Quebec. If I did this today, I would certainly be in traction for weeks! The Olympic Stadium, affectionately known as “The Big Owe”, after serious cost overruns, was not the best place to watch baseball but we still got to watch our heroes, the “boys of summer” do their thing.

I walked over to the Regional fields to catch a bit of the action. One of the local teams was playing. I watched a few innings and as the game was drawing to a close, it started to rain. I got wet but it was a warm rain. The visiting team prevailed but I saw lots of good softball and good sportsmanship.

As rain dripped off my hat, I dreamed of being young again.

“Let me root, root, root for the home team,

If they don’t win it’s a shame,

For it’s one, two, three strikes you’re out,

At the old ball game.”

Have a great weekend.