Life of Wry

Something I love: American Legion Post 77 baseball in the summer.

Just so you know what it is (because I didn’t, until a couple years ago)… American Legion Baseball is a baseball league sponsored by the American Legion for under 19-year olds, mostly guys who are in that period between high school and college.  American Legion is a veteran service organization.  Nationally, American Legion Baseball is an institution that’s been around since 1925.  The Yolo Post 77 baseball program has been around a long time, as well.  It draws some of the best players from high schools in Davis, Woodland, Winters and Esparto.  I could give you a better explanation, but that’s enough for my purpose here.  If you want to know more about the history, go here and for info about Yolo Post 77, go here.

Anyway.  Baseball?  Of course.  And ESPECIALLY baseball last night: a hot summer evening with a full moon rising.  Bruce Gallaudet told me they (the City of Woodland?) had spent the last year rebuilding Clark Field (on Beamer Street).  The result is a PERFECT and lush carpet of bright green grass, and dirt that is smooth, rich and dark around the base paths.  If you love the look of a sharply cut baseball field against a midnight blue sky with a giant globe hanging behind left-center, this was your night to be watching baseball.

I wasn’t scorekeeping, so could really go to work on a large pack of sunflower seeds.  It was also so hot last night, I was pounding bottles of ice water, and even dropping some down my back to stay cool.  That hot.

What a difference a week makes. Now bare feet and shorts are the default fashion choice.

Speaking of scorekeeping, Bruce told me I could scorekeep and report on some games this season (wheeee!).  That would be such a hoot.  After the game last night, I watched the reporters go out on the field to interview players and coaches. With recorders.  Now, really, how cool would that be?

By the way, if you’re a fan of local baseball, or just baseball in general, you have to read Bruce’s columns in the Enterprise (and soon his new blog).  His baseball reporting is a wonderful and very readable mix of game facts and storytelling; his vast knowledge and completely palpable love of the game always come through.   He also gets my award for funnest person to hang out with at a baseball game (no offense to my husband).  He’s my go-to for questions like, “Would you call that a hit or an error?,” “Was that an earned run?” “What’s the infield fly rule again?” and on and on.   Can’t wait to read his column today.

I don’t want to overly caricaturize the fans, or turn this into some lame imitation of a Rockwellian cover for the Saturday Evening Post–it’s very hard to write about Americana without sounding cliche-ic–but I have to say, part of what makes these games fun is the crowd, a large percentage of whom are old guys.

Their bleacher chatter is completely different than the supportive encouragement heard at little league games, though far gentler than the rude, beer-driven heckling at major league games.  These guys are not mean spirited, but they don’t hold back either; they’re there to see good baseball and they let their boys know it in a direct, if not paternal, way.

Not to be patronizing, but having all the old veterans in the stands, and the old women in the snack shack, gives the experience a bit of a romantic, era-gone-by texture, like dropping into someone else’s historical time zone.  Sitting among a bunch of old timers in high rise bleachers in classic, mid-town Clark Field, it’s not at all difficult to transport yourself back in time, which I did quite a bit of last night.

What also made it fun, was that Peter was serving as Post 77’s bat boy last night. Our huge just-about 13-year old (weighing in at 100.7 lbs) was so shrimpy next to those guys.. the size differential was kind of alarming, but definitely cute (if you’re the mom).  That’s Peter to the far right.

Being a bat boy is one of those sweet life experiences.   Cue little guy in the company of big guys:  they gave him lots of fist bumps and high fives, included him in their player huddles, let him practice with them before the game, and made him sweep up at the end.  Best of all was probably the dugout camaraderie.  Always lots to learn hanging out in that den of testosterone…  about the game, about strategy, about team dynamics, about guy interaction.  There was, as always, much raunchy language, as well.  According to Peter last night, “No.. no new swear words, but combinations I hadn’t heard before,” (he said, seeming quite pleased).

Anyway.. again, not to overly romanticize, but if you’re a baseball playing kid–or a fan of a baseball playing kid–it’s exactly as summer’s supposed to be.