Be that as it may, I am not a big follower of any sport, but that does not mean I do not like them. Now here is my story:
Long ago, one late May afternoon, I was brought to a park where I was to be playing little league. Many of my school chums were there and of course my mitt was well oiled and loved. I began to toss the ball around with one of my friends from school. As the ball sail back and forth between us I began to think how long it had been since I played… maybe a year, maybe a year and a half. It had become a long year for me. Well it should make no difference; I was as good as my friends… I had thought.
Well the coach and his assistant come out to give us the warm up speech… you know the one:
There is no “I” in T E A M… but there is in meat pie, which has a T E A M in it as well… blah, blah, blah, heart, blah, blah, doesn’t matter if we win, blah, blah, blah, need team spirit… Now go out there and let’s see what you got…
Now this man, coach, is the reason sports for children had to change. He was the “a-typical” alpha male. He wore his uniform from the previous year out to see what his new team could do. Don’t worry I run in to him again when I am older.
So it went, running drills, sliding drills. Hitting, catching more running. In the end I had several days invested into this team already, mind you prime time, time too. Right after school, parents were not home yet, I could run free… I could… do stuff…
Well along came Friday, and my Big Brother, of the organization not by birth, picked me up from school. I thought wow great Dick is going to take me to practice. No he was not a dick, his name was Richard, and he liked being called Dick.
I jumped into the car, said my hello’s and we pulled away from the curb Dick asked if I was hungry. Well yeah, was going to run home grab some food and run to practice… well really walk. He said ok lets go to Denny’s… should have seen it right there.
We sit down; I get my soda and a burger. Dick orders coffee, see that’s where I get the coffee habit cause that is all he ever drank. And he begins to tell me how he had talked with the coach, and how he felt that I would be better served to go play with 9 year olds, or not to play at all… I could go play with 9 year olds… I was 13, and a big 13 at that… was to step down and play with much smaller and younger boys… I was bemused with this, surely I was as good as my friends… how could he not want me on his team… Yeah I was pudgy but I could run, I could catch, hit slide…
It took me a while to figure out what happened, like several years, where as I was able to play with my friends, my friends were better than me. The thing that made it kind of last much longer than it should have, the ass-hat told my friends why I was not on the team, and the choice I had been given. They stopped playing with me, oh it dragged on for a few weeks, but eventually they stopped. Lost touch with them over that summer just stopped caring I guess. Made new friends, found new things to do, places to go, trouble to get into… but I never did put that glove back on.
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