Why We Love Softball

My earliest memory of baseball goes back to observing my grandfather watching baseball on TV; I was about five years old, and we were visiting my grandparents’ arm in southern Indiana. “What are you watching?” I asked. “It’s the Indianapolis Indians.” he replied. “Are they real Indians?” I asked? I knew a lot about Cowboys and Indians and these guys didn’t look like Indians to me but I figured it was the clothes. Anyway, my interest in baseball began that day, a nd even though I never played catch with my grandfather or anything like that, I think I was interested because I knew he was. And like a lot of “our generation”, the senior softball folks who read this, baseball had less competition for our leisure time in our youth as compared to what many kids today are exposed to. Recently my 10-year-old grandson CJ has developed an interest in baseball, and he called me to ask 
what he can do to get better. He offered a couple of things he apparently was told to do at his Little League practice. My answer however was this- just play as much as you can. If there’s no organized game or practice, play catch with a friend, hit flies and grounders to each other, etc. In my youth, in suburban Syracuse at that point, ALL my friends played baseball and we had pickup games all summer
long. My ball glove lived on the handlebars of my bike, with me wherever I went.
 

Unfortunately (or not I guess) that’s not usually the case for kids anymore. I know many of the other activities kids and adults do today are very healthy- I especially appreciate the increased interest in hiking and camping, biking and kayaking, birdwatching, etc. especially when it encourages interest in conservation. On the other hand I don’t get those folks who think a workout means strictly going to a
gym. To me, going to a gym is what I do so I’m in shape for softball, and not the means and the end in itself. That would be so boring! Also, I think there is a special value for team sports as opposed to solo endeavors like golf, tennis, running, etc.

 

The baseball term “Sacrifice” sums up what a team sport should signify- it’s not about you, it’s about the team. Something we all need to remind ourselves of occasionally. And what can be better than to gather after a game with your  teammates over a beverage and rehash the fun you just shared? Be it a win or a loss, I think we seniors appreciate the gift we are receiving every time we drag our old carcasses out onto a ballfield -every time more than we ever did. Or we should. We all have friends who wish they could still play. Or are no longer with us. Perspectives that come with experience. So yes, many of us are grandparents now, but still playing a version of the game that we fell in love with as kids. It’s early April as I write this; the grass is just greening up a little here in the north and the smell of mown grass in the spring always has and always will remind me that baseball season is here. At a tournament in Hawaii a few years back the refreshment stand had a sign offering a “hamburger” and a “cheeseburger in paradise.” Someone asked, “What’s on the cheeseburger in paradise?” The cook
responded: “Cheese. You’re IN paradise.” Every time you set foot on the field.