October 6, 2009 |
The sun had ducked behind the White Tank Mountains long ago, shrouding the baseball field at Phoenix St. Mary's High in darkness. But the former junior college infielder and his teenage son weren't about to end their workout. So the man kept throwing baseballs through the gloaming. And his son, squinting to see each pitch, kept lining them to every corner of the field. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! And so it went, nearly every spring and summer day, for more than half a dozen years.
May 29, 2009 |
To the good people in Aisle 3, Rows V and W: From the bottom of my tiny, baseball-shaped heart, I am sorry for what happened the other day. Sorry for the giggle fits and the carnage. We thought it'd be nice, you know, to take the T-ball team to a real game, at a real ballpark, to cap off their magical-maniacal season. For nothing bonds fathers and sons like baseball. And, as you well know, baseball loves nothing so much as kooks and oddballs, which this T-ball team has in spades. No disrespect.
HOME & GARDEN
May 2, 2009 |
We pull off to the school drop-off. A kid gets out, and here's what comes pouring out of our family car: -- a hockey stick -- $27.50 in pennies -- a lacrosse ball -- a box of tampons -- two ticket stubs from Hollywood Park -- a copy of Sports Illustrated -- a tube of hemorrhoid cream -- an old pregnancy test (flunked) -- 14 Starbucks cups -- a baseball glove I drive away, leaving all of it, except for the baseball glove, the only thing of value in a car full of crud.
CALIFORNIA | LOCAL
March 5, 2009 |
Jerry Sacharski, a recreation league director who pioneered T-ball as an organized youth sport in the 1950s because he couldn't bear to turn away young children who clamored to play baseball, has died. He was 93. Sacharski, who was a retired high school teacher, died Friday of natural causes at his home in Albion, Mich., said a spokeswoman for the J. Kevin Tidd Funeral Home.
March 5, 2009 |
With a little luck, my son's T-ball team will remember this Not-So-Great Depression simply as a time they played ball twice a week and had a lot of fun. At the end of the game the parents would bring snacks. If the dads were worried, they didn't show it . . . not much anyway. Not as much as they probably should have. When Dad seemed depressed, you dragged him out to the frontyard for a game of catch -- to this day, the best free activity the world has ever known.
HOME & GARDEN
June 26, 2008 |
So THE Blue Jay Sluggers cap their undefeated season -- no wins, no losses, 14 ties -- with a party in the park. It's a lavish display befitting today's modern athlete: food, gifts and groupies (in this case, the boys' moms). "Want some lemonade?" one of the parents asks. "It's not just lemonade," whispers someone else. "Yeah, don't get too close to a fire," says one of the dads.