Conley's post time warped me back to childhood, and I had a meeting in Painesville City last Friday. Few things I've been thinking about since, and a few things I miss. Travel with me, will you?
I miss Painesville City. Not the city itself, but the City it once was. Driving to Painesville City, especially the Square and Rec Park, as a kid, felt like driving to a different state. Small shops, little restaurants, people on foot, it was a 'town'.
Coach and I have shared what I'm going to talk about next. I think it was about 11-12 years ago we started having these conversations. Back then, it didn't feel like a "forever ago" memory - now it does.
Opening Day...not at Cleveland Stadium. At Rec Park. Hundreds of kids sprinting around, cars actually driving 5mph through the slim roads. Different colored jersies, finding your team, everyone meeting and congregating on the grass for pictures. Getting there, seeing your team and your coach, and making a dead sprint to get there. Your parents still at the car. They knew you were ok. Sure, there were different teams down there, people you never met, but hell, people looked out for one another. The faint smell of cheap hot dogs coming from the Calhoun Stand, Lemonheads and Boston Baked Beans for $.05 and a pack of Bowman cards for $.25 (they should've been free, they never had any value, and I swear to this day that every pack contained a Joe Orsulak card).
Once pictures were taken everyone met on one field (can't remember what # it is, but I think it's Joe Calhoun Field now) and I believe they announced every players name. I know they played the National Anthem through a very shitty sound system. Didn't matter. You felt like you were in the big leagues. New jersey, new cleats, old glove (you know you didn't want or need a new one, old glove = best glove), white pants (pre-grass stain, and the stain usually came from horsing around, not sliding on the grass!), slightly bent hat with your name written in it (God forbid you lost your HAT), batting glove (optional for some, but I played 1b, you had to have one), and last but not least, the firetrucks were always there to support the Painesville Firefighter Team (they were red by the way).
PLAY BALL! Play...there's a word we don't use anymore. We've left it somewhere. Somewhere on those dusty diamonds is the word play, and it pains me to think we used to hear PLAY BALL! Our eyes would light up, the game was you and you were the game. Play. Think about that word for a while. When's the last time you used it? When's the last time you did it? I have to move on, I just depressed myself.
Games, for me at least, seemed to last for days. Every play a mini movie. I could recount an entire game play by play. Hell, I can still remember a few. The game would end, and the real party would start. You'd wait for the coach to get done talking and then you'd sprint to the Stand for your after game treat. AWESOME. I wasn't the fastest kid, so I had to plan ahead. Know the fastest route. Be at the opening of the dugout BEFORE the coach started talking, and when he stopped talking, fire out of an invisible cannon. Man, best race ever.
You met friends that you still have today. I met the Rago's, who became family friends, and are to this day. I knew the Catalano's, but only as a rival. I thought Paul threw 143mph, I'll tell you that. Hell, I think Adam Tills did throw 143 back then, haha! In Senior League I became great friends with Shawn VanHuss, and had the privilage of being the Best Man in his wedding. I guess most importantly we learned how to grow as individuals. Sure, we learned baseball, but we learned life lessons. How to win, how to lose, how to make friends, how to discect a blueprint of baseball diamonds so you could be first in line to get 30 Red Hot Dollars for $.30!!
Why didn't anyone sit us down and warn us that it wouldn't last forever? Is it because they didn't want to crush our spirit or was it because they didn't have the heart to tell us? You have to think they were down there to hear PLAY BALL! just as much as we were, right?
Remember the end of the year Team Picnic? Looking back, it's probably a way for the parents to have an excuse to bring a cooler of cold ones down and spark the grill. I know I thought it was the greatest day ever. Playing softball vs. the coaches and parents, grill grub, all the pop we wanted, running around like wild animals, damn, we played...all day.
I guess it's just a little scary to think those days are now over, gone forever. Our PLAY BALL! has been covered by the dust of time. One day I'll drive down to those fields and tell my kids that it's where I played ball. They'll hate me for it. They'll be bored. But maybe by taking them down there I'll hear someone yell, just one more time, PLAY BALL!
I want my PLAY BALL! back.
- Salty