In the late fifties, my parents would drop us off at the high school for every sporting event.
One day we were dropped off for a high school baseball game. And because kids in attendance get bored, they would start talking about forming their own baseball game, away from the main game.
But we had no ball.
And we had no bat.
We had the clothes on our back. That was it.
Now was I dismayed at playing in such a dysfunctional environment?
Not on your life!
I was so accustomed to playing by myself that any warm bodies were wonderful.
Trouble was brewin’ before we started-traditionally we would toss a bat in the air and grip it alternatively to select sides. But we only had an imaginary bat.
So this turned a five minute process into fifteen.
I took my place in left field. I felt so confident I could catch everything. Who could tell me the ball went over my head?
More trouble instantly. The pitcher ‘threw’ a strike’. The batter said it was a ball. Five minutes of f’ing arguing. I was starting to numb up.
Batter then hits a long homer-or so he says. Pitcher claims it was a grounder to second. Much, much more argument.
Next batter out on a close play at first. Yes, yes argument of course.
Although I was only 8 years old, I was beginning to understand the meaning of the word ludicrous.
Players, including me, are drifting, eventually away.
But think about it. We all bought in to TRYING imaginary baseball.
Name one sober adult who would do that.
I wanna go back.