As a special treat for the adoring fans today was that Craig (Garrett’s dad) was “dugout Dad” of the week. Now this is a new invention from when I played ball. Dad’s had some different roles back then. My dad was never in the dugout, that was the coach’s turf and they didn’t share it. Dads were responsible for grounds keeping, snack bar staffing and clean up. I would have to guess nowadays dad’s are a little more demanding, so the best way to keep from having them all in the dugout is to make it a special thing and assign one a week. Notably, the other team used parents as base coaches and score keepers and seemed to have quite a full dugout. Given some clear responsibilities Craig rose to the occasion and kept the team batting in order in and in the right positions in the field.
But back to the star attraction, the guy in the red uniform. Garrett made a number of very good plays for a guy his age and made some good contact with the ball. It was fun to watch him play and you can see he is watching baseball on TV. He is emulating his heroes already; he is a very active guy in the batter’s box. In the field he knows his ready position and made some nice catches.
The game ended on time (yes, still at an age where it’s about time not score) and was followed up with a nice brunch. It is always nice to catch up with friends.As I watched the game I thought back about when I first played. I don’t think I was on the field in a game at Garrett’s age because as far back as I can remember my first organized baseball was with the gold team. Back then there were only 2 teams in my age bracket, the black and the gold. And, it seems like some things are different today than they were back then. When I was first playing baseball, they did keep score of the games, I know because we lost all but one game that season. I also remember that in Staten Island they always ran the scores in the newspaper, the Advance. So, for an entire season I got to see our losses in the paper every weekend. There is nothing like getting to relive your failures every Sunday morning to motivate you toward a week of practice. This probably contributed to the competitive spirit I have carried with me throughout my life. Luckily, things got better after that first year.
So with baseball memories in mind, I will have to share my old gold hat (yes, I still have my first baseball hat) with Siena one day. She can wear the hat and I can show her the one newspaper clipping from my first year in baseball, the only game we won when we finally beat the Black team. Then we can move on to the new memories she will create and we will share. I wonder what my little girl will want to play when she grows up.
