Chuck Roots
26 June 2017
www.chuckroots.com
The Girls of Summer
There was my granddaughter,
Brooklyne, proudly wearing her red team jersey with the name in black
emblazoned across the chest, Lady Warriors, one of the many softball teams for
9-11-year-old girls in Turlock.
I had to smile at that, remembering
my Little League days when I played for a team in our town of Mount Kisco, New
York, called Briccetti’s. This appliance store in the downtown area was responsible
for sponsoring our team. Those days of playing endless hours of baseball are as
alive in me today as they were nearly sixty years ago.
Over the years I played some
baseball in high school, and later softball, both fast-pitch and slow pitch,
while serving in the Navy. I spent countless hours teaching both Laura and
Jenny how to play softball. I even coached Jenny’s 7th grade team
which is an article for another time. Yet, those early memories of playing with
my friends is a cherished part of my childhood. I never wanted those games to
end.
After arriving at Pedretti Sports
Complex in Turlock for the 10:30 game, I set up the folding lounge chairs for
Isaura and me in a shaded area since we’ve had a string of very hot days. Once
the game started, however, I moved to the bleachers which offered a much better
view of the field. This worked well as Brook was playing 3rd base,
and the bleachers were on the 3rd base side. There she was, anticipating
each pitch, dropping into a crouch, expecting the batter to hit the ball to
her. As a nine-year-old, she has a lot to learn. But she’s game, and even got a
hit!
Since I’ve been away from the game a
very long time, I would ask questions about the finer points of today’s version
of softball of the folks seated around me, hopefully without being annoying. At
one point, I turned to a number of the adults sitting behind me, and asked a
question about the diminutive pitcher for the Lady Warriors. I quarried, “Is
this girl really nine-years-old?” A young woman smiled and said, “She is ten!” This
little player, named Haven, is her daughter, and her husband is one of the
coaches. I just had to ask another question. “How much does she weigh?” Mom
smiled and said, “43 pounds.” She then told me that at the beginning of the
school year, Haven weighed 42 pounds, and had managed to grow an inch. I was
floored! She might be really tiny, which she literally comes by naturally (her
dad the coach is 5’2”), but this little dynamo can play! I watched her in the
batter’s circle practicing her swing motion, and let me tell you, she is all
business. She proceeded to smack a hit, eventually scoring her team’s second
run of the game.
It was such fun sitting there
watching these girls playing their hearts out. I was transported again and
again back to my days of playing. There were the smells of the dirt and leather
mitts, the sounds of players chattering, and coaches encouraging, along with
the “ping” sound of aluminum bats, all within the confines of a neatly
manicured grass ballfield with chalk lines marking the base paths, and the fair
and foul territories. The sky was a bright blue with an ever-rising
temperature, but so what! After all! This was a ball game!
Brook and her five-year-old brother,
Colson, had spent the previous night at our home. In the early evening at the
request of both Brook and Colson, I piled them into the car and headed for
Spring Creek Golf and Country Club. Their very favorite thing to do is have me
drive them around in a golf cart through the almond and walnut orchards that
surround the golf course. It is especially exciting if they find a few lost
golf balls. Back home, Brook made Russian Tea Cakes, which were delicious, and
Colson helped me make a big bowl of popcorn the old-fashioned way – over fire
on the stove – which we ate while watching the movie, Black Beauty.
To cap off our time with these two
terrific grandkids, following the game, which the Lady Warriors won, 4-2, Isaura
and I took them to the McDonalds in Turlock that has an indoor playground. We
ordered lunch and an ice cream cone before finally returning them to their home.
For years I had heard grandparent-aged
folks go on and on about how much fun their grandkids were, and how much they
looked forward to the time they spent with them. Isaura and I never quite
understood this effusiveness over grandkids until we had our own. What a
blessing these little ones are!
Did I mention there’s another game
on Monday?
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