The Forgotten Game - How I Fell In Love With The Game Of
Baseball AGAIN.
The Forgotten game
How I Fell In Love With The Game Of Baseball AGAIN. It happens
to the best of us. One day we realizes a piece of us is missing.
With the things we love it is not as simple as patting your back
pocket to make sure you didn't leave the house with out your
wallet. Such is the case with me and the game of baseball. I
don't think I really fell out of love with baseball, life just
sort of happened and I grew up. What I did not know was that the
time I spent away from the game, the game of baseball was
actually still in my heart just waiting for the day I would yell
out "play ball !" again. I remember when it all came back to me.
It was after the strike of 94' before all the money hungry major
leaguers I called my hero's agreed to play OUR game again.
Something clicked inside me that year. I don't know if it was
the silence of all those empty ball parks or the fact that the
only ballplayers playing that year were guys just like me. Guys
who just loved the game and were paid with checks they could not
cash. You know the kind paid to the order of "reality".I could
feel it coming back every time I would pass an empty ball park.
My senses would bring me closer to my most precious memories.
The unique aroma of freshly cut grass mixing with clouds of
infield dust were calling me back into time. Memories flooded my
mind.The chatter of little leaguers in the heat of a sizzling
summer game rose up from the silence of adulthood. I was way too
old to play little league and too young to give up on the game I
loved. This is a tough time in a man's life. The time when we
have to choose how we will continue loving the game. Some choose
to softball, some choose to coach little league and some accept
that their lot in life is being no more than an avid fan. You
see time marches on and youth slips away. It leaves behind only
the memories that we have held tight. These are the memories
that we refuse to forget.These kind of memories are seeds of
hope that are proof that God has blessed us with something
worthy of remembrance.Memories like the first time you took the
mound and feared beaning that shaking kid in batters box or the
feeling of numbness in your fingers as you connected with your
very first fastball. My baseball memories will never be
forgotten. I have written them on a canvas with colors that
would make Picasso cry. I always dreamed I could play with Don
Mattingly one day. Back then I was naive enough to think that if
I kept on just playing baseball, time would march me right to
third base in Yankee stadium so I could dive to my left and snag
that hot grounder then from my knees sling the ball across the
diamond right into Donny's baseball's out stretched glove. All
that was left for him to do was point and tip his hat. That
dream never happened of course but I will never let go of the
memory. While Donny baseball is still in pinstripes he has been
replaced at 1st base, by a new superstar. He is not quite as big
but I would never even think of trading him. You see my new 1st
baseman is my son and the only time I sling the ball from my
knees at third base is when I trip while showing his teammates
team how to field the routine grounder at little league
practice. Together he and I are making new baseball memories and
thanks to him I finally got play little league again. Thank you
son, your are my treasure.
As faithful as Lou Gerhig himself time has kept its promise. It
has brought me from childhood to fatherhood where for the love
of the game I have accepted my duty in passing on my baseball
memories to my children. Though they are still too young to
understand why,they know that I am passing on a piece of our
American heritage. Many have made mention of baseball and apple
pie but I say baseball is America so never let it die! Relive
all those wonderful memories and you will see why...
By: Jason A. Conyers