BASEBALL THEN AND NOW
(Page 2 of 2)
April/May 1993
By the Mother Earth News editors
Those games were never won or lost conclusively. They were usually called on account of darkness, and the apparent winners went home buddy-buddy, talking about getting together tomorrow to form a club or perform some other exclusive right. The loser quarreled among themselves about who was at fault and agreed only on the point that the opponents were a bunch of "dirty double cheaters." Oh, it was all wonderfully disorganized.
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And then the adults got into the act and organized the whole business. I think we were always aware subconsciously that the game and the circumstances were imperfect and at fault. Besides, we could always rationalize that we were right, no matter who won the point. Once there was an umpire to declare the right and the wrong, kids could only direct their spite at one another, at the umpire, or at the coaches. The game improved and human relations deteriorated.
I suppose the thing I resent most is the loss of spontaneity from the game. I've never been very responsive to strict schedules for myself, so it's no small wonder that I take a dim view of regimenting nine-year-olds (especially when it means I must organize my household around ball games).
However, for all my objections, I see signs of hope. Our scrub team has a 0-4 record, yet at last week's game I heard nobody poor-mouthing the coach. One of the local fathers was forced into service at the last minute as an ump, and nobody hurled any epithets or bottles at him. None of the kids cried or stamped on their hats either.
There was a general sense of pride in these little kids, that they perform with the skill and nonchalance they do. There was an air of conviviality in the crowd, and as the game broke up, spectators from both sides laughed and chatted together.
I was impressed that these are parents who still see things in the right proportion and recognize that as an attribute to pass on to their children.
From A Thread of Blue Denim by Patricia Penton Leimbach. Copyright © by Patricia Penton Leimbach.
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