Little League Memories
I was at an Astros game last week and during the play of the game I came the closest I have ever been to catching a home run ball. I was with a group of friends seated in the left center field stands when suddenly a ball was launched from the Astros player’s bat! It silently arced up toward the roof of Minute Maid Park and I got the sense that it was heading right for us! The ball bounced off a sign that was above our heads and then all chaos broke loose when it landed. I wasn’t able to find it, but the guy behind me did. I think I’ll never forget that moment. After the game I was still pumped up with excitement and it caused me to reflect back on some cherished memories of when I was playing baseball. The first thing I thought of was the serene environment of the ball field itself. There is nothing to compare with the smell of freshly cut grass, an expertly maintained infield, and the perfectly framed ivory lines of chalk separating fair from foul balls. To me, all is right with the world at a baseball park. Baseball doesn’t have the level of excitement found in Football or Basketball, but there are times when it is pure bliss.
I played on 3 little league teams, if I recall correctly. My first season was with a tee ball team in Mississippi during the mid-1970s. If you have ever seen the movie “The Sandlot,” our equipment was much like theirs. We wore jeans and t-shirts for uniforms, and I think we had 2 batting helmets for the whole team. I’m fairly sure those helmets had never been cleaned and they smelled like, well – you get the picture. As a batter you wore one of those ill-fitting, smelly helmets until you got on base. Once you got on base you traded the batting helmet for a base running helmet. This was the most poorly designed thing I had ever seen. It had sides but the top was nothing but elastic webbing. What layer of protection that was supposed to provide was a mystery then and still is a mystery today.
The next year my team was sponsored by the local Rotary Club. We had real team jerseys and proper baseball pants that were much better for sliding into a base than jeans. I don’t recall any specific equipment shortcomings, but I do remember our shortcomings in the scoreboard department. I will be generous and say that we won 2 games during that season, and those 2 “wins” were most likely over teams who somehow were worse than us. It’s very disheartening for a kid to try really hard, to do your very best and to lose anyway. Does that sort of thing build character? I don’t know, but at the time it was a hard pill to swallow.
I didn’t want to continue playing baseball the next year, but my mom convinced me to give it another try. We had moved to Louisiana, it was a new league of teams, and she knew the coach to be a good man. So, I signed on and the practices were harder, the games were tougher, but I loved it all the more. The best part was that we actually won some games and were pretty competitive. For once in my life, I was on a great team and I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. As the season went on, we qualified for tournament play and ended up placing second overall. I still have my trophy from that season, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Thanks, Coach.
The column represents the thoughts and opinions of Alan Shoalmire. Opinion columns are NOT the opinion of the Navasota Examiner.
Alan Shoalmire is a resident in Grimes County and the owner of Grill Sergeant Hotdogs and submits a column to the Navasota Examiner every other week.
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