More Than A Game

Memories are sparked by inspiration.

I never had any friends.
People avoided me; that is, if they weren't laughing at me.

And then, one sunny day, my mother told me I could go out and play.
I had no brothers; and I thought that nobody liked me.

All the other kids were gathered in the field playing
what was to be the most complex game to transcend the most simplest of boundaries.

"O. K. Let's pick teams."

"Hey, kid! Are you playin'?"

They didn't even know my name, and I was picked last.
I didn't know how to play, but it is easy to learn.
I was in the outfield, but I was afraid of the ball.
I didn't want to get hurt, after all.

And anytime I was up at bat, there was always somebody on base.

What will the pitcher give me today? And what will I bring?

What will I do?

I wasn't alone anymore. I was up at bat.
I could feel the sting as I swing and went 'whack!'
It was hot, dirty, and I did feel sore. But as time went on, I wanted to play more.

I dropped three fly balls, struck out twice, got hit by a pitch, and lined out to the pitchers' glove.

The game ended, I bowed my head and started home.
I have no father to run to; we had lost the game.

"Hey, kid! Where ya goin'?"

I never knew him, but he must have been a player.
A Baseball Player!

"C'mon! We're gonna eat lunch!"

I ran to them - my shared experience.

I don't have to talk to myself this time.

I have a place to go to now. The opposing player stretched out his hand. "Nice game kid," he said. "What's your name?"
I can't wait - till we get 'em next time!

For anyone can play in this family.


Years later, I was walking alone in the park across the same dusty field I had played in...
Hearing something behind me, I turned to see a young boy with his father...
The boy extended his hand, within rested a baseball. " Would you like to play with us?"


There is the Mighty Casey, the Splendid Splinter, the Sultan of Swat, the Iron Horse, the Yankee Clipper, Mr. Cub, Charlie Hustle, Mr. October, the Ryan Express, and the Big Unit.

They left their mark on the field, and in my heart.

I saw those boys of summer; those men of iron coming across that field of diamond.
I wanted to thank them, but they said, "You don't have to thank us at all."

Just then, a voice pierced the bright, clear blue sky:
"Play ball!"