My son was actually scheduled to play at Harrison Park again on Thursday evening, yet the fields were “unplayable” as we were told. Kind of pissed me off, as the sun came out later in the afternoon; it was a perfect night for baseball. But yes, my special moment will have to wait… again. Let’s continue with our “rain delay” special look back; let’s review the early years at Harrison Park.
After that first line drive to the chin, I was good; our team wasn’t very good however. That first year of playing organized baseball ended with a trophy… a last place trophy. Yeah, I guess they did the whole “participation trophy” that everybody bitches about way back when too. I didn’t care; it was awesome… my first trophy. A little sucker, that I still have today. We had an end of the year banquet where the trophies were presented; we had a blast. This first year was also the last year one of my teams finished anywhere near last place.
Next year, we came in 4th place; the following year we came in 2nd. I have many memories over those years, although not really sure which was when. I probably could piece it together, through the many game balls that my dad saved. Without doing that though, a few come to the top of my head. I had asthma growing up; the doctors say I outgrew it. Although I do remember being rushed to the hospital a few times as a kid, I don’t think I had it that bad. I only used an inhaler occasionally. I believe it was before a playoff game, where I wasn’t feeling the greatest; I was having a hard time breathing. We were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to convince my mother that I was OK to play; she said OK, but I had to take my inhaler with me. Agreed. The game was against our arch rivals, the Pirates. When I came up to the plate on my first AB, I absolutely crushed a ball over the left fielder’s head. We didn’t have any fences back then, so the ball just rolled and rolled. I wasn’t feeling any pain as I rounded the bases, giving us an early lead with a 2 run HR. After I got back in the dugout, I remember my mom giving me the inhaler through the fence, telling me to take it; I did. I didn’t care. I was so happy. If my memory serves me correct, this same game didn’t end with the same feelings.
I was pitching in this game too, with my mouthpiece. I was pitching great, but it started to get dark; we didn’t have any lights either. The game was called, to be continued the following day. When I took the mound the next day, my arm was like jell-o. For how great I was the day before, I was garbage in the continuance of the game; we lost. This may have been the year we finished 2nd place. I cried my eyes out that night. I remember going in our basement, having my dad run the water over my head, telling me it was going to be OK. And I wonder why my son gets so emotional when competing…
I guess it was like my sports teams back then; we had to pay our dues. We went from last to 4th to 2nd; you can guess which place we finished in our 4th year. Let’s go there next.
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