City - Kirby Park State - SPRING VALLEY, ILLINOIS Country - United States
About
This is not about baseball. Well…. It is a little bit about baseball. I played baseball for a lot of years on many, many different baseball fields. Some of you have seen what happened to the Gary, Indiana baseball place. I have played in streets, alleys, fields, parks… and yards. My most memorable years playing the game I love were spent at Kirby Park in Spring Valley. In that photo (B/W) of me catching in my Gary series, I was playing at Kirby Park. A few days ago I was standing on the same field, mid-winter… and I ran… A few years ago I met with Marty Herman. Marty played in the league (not on my team) and he also did a lot of umpire work. He saw a lot of games. Marty turned to me and said, “Of the 5 greatest catches I ever saw here, you made 3 of them.” I thanked him. I didn’t want to point out I prolly made ALL 5 of the 5 greatest catches and he missed a few games… I just thanked him. I stood at first base the other day. There was 7 inches of snow on the playing field; the “diamond.” It is called a diamond because the infield has the geometric shape of a mathematical diamond. I stood where the buried first base was and looked out to second… I mused… I shivered (it was cold and I am over 50 years of age) and then I thought, “What if? What if I were to run and slide into second base same as I did 20 or 30 years ago?” I hesitated… I shivered (it was the cold this time) and I mulled about. I looked to the outfield. I looked to the dugouts… I smiled to myself…. I took my stance… I marked second base as right about the shadow from the lights… “It’s a close game. The home team has a runner on first with one out. The pitcher looks home; gets the sign, goes into the stretch. The pitcher looks over his shoulder to first where Loy represents the winning run. He looks home. Looks back to first to check the runner… looks home… Here’s the pitch. Loy runs!!! He’s trying to steal second! Pitch is low and outside and the catcher fires a strike to the bag. The shortstop takes the throw! Loy slides!!! The tag……………………………………. SAFE! SAFE!!!! The winning run is in scoring position!” That play by play was running through my head as I made my break for second. I ran in the snow… I ran as if it were mid-summer and I was on the upside of life. I was surprised at how quickly the light shadow came upon me… I was faster than I thought. I shifted to my left a hair and collapsed my left leg, folding it neatly at the knee. I slid in the snow and sent spraying crystals up and about me. I smelled fresh grass and clay/dirt. I popped up from a perfect slide and ground my left foot tightly into the bag. I was safe. Bending over I dusted dirt from my legs and saw glittering snowflakes dance merrily about. I had just stolen secondbase. It was not the first time I had done so… but it will prolly be my last time. I stood at the center of the field and looked about. The wind cracked cold-snaps on my hands. My face burned with the rush of winter. My eyes glittered. I just stold secondbase in the middle of the snow-season. I don’t know if anyone saw me. I don’t care if anyone saw me. I made my way off the field with my hands shoved tightly into my pockets and my feet going numb.
You are welcome. I am doing one of my notoriously late replies…. I was going through pics for the 2009 Bureau (B-your-oh) County Fair. I was looking at this one. It will win nothing… not even a second glance. But, if I enter it with the bit of writing… who knows. I will concede it wins nothing… but that is a pretty darn good bit of word-flinging. I think I will enter it. And I loved the memories ya shared. Take care man…..
hmm its a bit like I (or more correctly LL said yesty.. u r wasted at Walmart (I have forgotten the place you work now) lovely yarn.. I laughed discernibly when your about rolled down the screen... a great story about great events or a great event.. it is a bit weird.. when you do something that you know will be the last time you do it... It is like when me n me lil bro Ian left the parental home in Caringbah for the last time.. after he and me n me lil sis Sally (me big bro Peter went away to Fiji for some reason and missed a lot of fun) emptied and cleaned up the house after the old man died it took us a week.. we both knew we were leaving the Shire.. (Sutherland Shire) and Caringbah forever... we arrived at the fork in the road where, he was to head south west to his home in Canberra and I was to head north to my home in Muswellbrook.. we did not toot our horns.. but as if by silent command and almost simultaneously we thrust our arms out of the drivers window and made peace signs to one another.. as I drove on silently and alone I wept .. Jimmy I say to you, I wept as I drove through the tunnel under the runway as Sir Charles Kingsford Smith airport (where I strongly hope I will one day pick you and MM up from) my eyes were wet with tears enough to make the tunnel lights blur.. I blinked my eyes hard to dispel the tears so they could fill some more… I would never return to my old home it was now my turn.. We the siblings were alone in the world to face the full glare of the fact that we were the next generation to die… your story evoked this response… thank you
Nooooo..... you didn't say anything wrong. It takes me a long time (often) to respond to comments. I got bck to Roger in almost 3 years one time. Feel free to comment freely! Nothing offends and nearly everything makes me smile!! jim
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