The Way Back Machine

     My youngest daughter decided this year she wanted to play softball.  She has played soccer a few years, and cheered for football one year, but never showed any interest in softball until this year.  We signed her up.  Little did I know her playing softball was going to put me in the way back machine.
     I actually was going to write a similar post several months ago, but got other things on my mind.  I took her to her practice Tuesday night, and it started bringing back a lot of memories.  The field she was practicing on was the same field that I used to go and watch my niece play on.  That was the first flood of precious memories I got.  I was standing by the fence in the outfield watching the practice, when it hit me that I was standing in the exact same spot my Dad would stand in to watch my niece.   I never remember my dad sitting in the stands, whether watching her, or back in the day watching my brother and I play.  He always stood at the fence.  I am the same way.  I guess I got a lot from my Dad.
     The second thing that hit me was just how long it had been since I had actually played softball.  Back in my younger days, I looked forward to the days when the weather would get warm enough to start practicing.  The way we were back then, that normally meant late February.  It was still cold, but we didn't care, we were ready to play.  I started out playing church league.  Back in the 1980's, church league was a big deal.  Actually, softball all around was huge.  There would be a full church league, and an industrial league.  I played for South Summerville.  We played against Alpine, Four Mile, North Summerville, West 5th Street, Berryton, Summerville 1st, Trion 1st, you name the church, they probably had a team at one point or another.  The industrial league was another world, as all of the local industries sponsored teams.  The Reigel Rifles were the big dogs, and were almost always playing for national titles.
     In church league, our biggest rival was always Four Mile.  We never could seem to get the best of them.  I don't know how many tournaments we played in against them, and always came out on the losing end.  We had some great men playing on our team.  I started out as the bat boy before I was old enough to play, then learned the ropes until I ended up the first baseman.  I remember the guys like it was yesterday.  Arnold Kilgo, Craig Holt, Stan Burrage, Kevin Lee, Thomas Ballenger, Randy Willingham, Gary Woods, Derek Adams, and the late Lamar gravely are the faces that come to mind right now.  Ray Lee, Pat Gaines, and the late Herbert Hale were the coaches through the years.  We had a lot of fun.
     Later on the league started to die out, and South Summerville no longer fielded a team.  Derek Adams and I went to play for North Summerville.  They were great guys, and I made lifelong friends, but it just wasn't the same.  I got a few teams up for tournaments a couple of times after that, but soon the fever died down and I retired.  I played one more game for a friend of mine a few years later, then put my glove up.  I talked to my daughters coach after practice and asked if he needed any help with the team.  He told me he would be glad for me to help.  I guess I will get the glove out again and help teach the next generation.
     Every once in a while I wish I could turn back the clock to those days, and have the old team take the field one more time.  My body has grown older, and the aches and pains don't go away like they used to.  It would be fun to go back and have one more day of playing ball in my youth.  It sure would be fun.