My grandfather was a pitcher in the Cape Cod Baseball League before serving in World War II. He enjoyed sports and spending time with other athletes. During his retirement years in Florida he played golf with Johnny Antonelli. Antonelli was the ace pitcher (21-7 with a 2.30 ERA) for the New York Giants in 1954 when they won the World Series. I spent a day with Johnny and my grandfather watching spring training games in 1986. Antonelli let me wear his World Series ring for an entire game. Johnny Antonelli died just this past February at the age of 89. More about him: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_Antonelli
I played Little League baseball (ages 6-12). My last year I made the Arlington County All-Star Team (Virginia) as a first baseman, but then ultimately chose to play tennis in middle and high school. Historically speaking, I know more about baseball than any other sport.
This was a good team, but I left FOP the following year to play for Optimist. I later played basketball in high school. Basketball is still my favorite sport.
Standing as if a sundial, my hand, a glove shadowing time.
Waiting for the ball I blink, wink, chew gum, itch my rear,
because nobody is watching me out in the wilderness where
gnats and sun, smell of cut grass envelop me, make me
a tall insect wearing stripes, socks hiked up high. I pace, shuffle
cleats, shout “Hey Batter, Batter,” as if my distant voice matters.
Take away white lines, the small crowd, he’s just a bushy haired
boy in a quiet meadow, looks like he might be talking to himself.
Or god knows who he is or what he is doing out there alone, a
quiet king with monarchs that flutter by. Until wooden bat breaks
daydreams, interrupts his nature, baseball soars over his head.