T Ball

I REALIZED in the second week of the T-ball season that I had somehow been blessed with a team of elves, leprechauns and Smurfs. There they were, sitting on the bench in the dugout one afternoon, squirming as if on a church pew when I thought: "ELVES! By gawd, the league gave me a roster full of elves!" Just lucky, I guess. Two months later, I love them like sons. Indeed, our starting lineup looks something like this (batting averages included): Sneezy .999 Grumpy .999 Itchy .989 Gooey .

As with all things presidential, George W. Bush began precisely on time his mission to bring Little League baseball to the White House and rekindle America's love for the national pastime. So at 2:45 p.m. EDT Sunday, the Satchel Paige Memphis Red Sox and the Capitol City Rockies were lined up like soldiers on their respective sidelines, taking last-minute instructions from their T-ball coaches. "Don't sit on the chalk line!" "If the ball goes over the fence, that's a home run."

Over the protests of parents, a judge ruled Friday that an LAPD sergeant accused of perjury in the Rampart corruption scandal does not have the right to coach his 7-year-old son's T-ball team. Brian Liddy sued Los Angeles County in July after the Department of Parks and Recreation dismissed him as a volunteer coach at the Castaic Regional Sports Complex, fearing bad publicity from his association with the Rampart scandal.

For years, director Adrian Hall could be counted on to deliver the unexpected. His actors might spray the patrons with water, might fire off cannons, might smack a bloody side of meat in a play about the Manson murders, might perform "The Visit" in an old railroad depot. But these days, it is Hall on whom the surprises are being sprung. For the last six years, Hall, 61, has been running two theaters at once--the Trinity Repertory Company of Providence, R.I.

Scott Stark, who transferred from Stanford to Saddleback College this summer, said Wednesday that he had left the Saddleback football team. Stark set the Orange County single-season record for passing yardage with 2,706 in 1985 for Capistrano Valley. He was redshirted at Stanford in 1986. He played a few games for the Cardinal in 1987, including a start against UCLA. He was 6 of 16 for 43 yards with 2 interceptions for the season.

Tom Keysor, longtime Angel fan, pulls the brown-stained baseball out of his pocket and holds it teasingly in the air. John Moynihan, longtime Angel official, looks up wearily. "What do you want again?" Moynihan asks. "I want one of Tim Salmon's black bats, autographed with a white pen, personalized, and I want to meet him," Keysor says. Moynihan rubs his eyes. Keysor dangles his ball. The national pastime, circa 2000.

Imagine the mortified look on Padre Manager Jack McKeon's face if first baseman Jack Clark were to shove the ball into the stomach of an onrushing baserunner, like a quarterback handing off to a fullback. Or how would he react if Benito Santiago were to approach him with tears in his eyes because Roberto Alomar had borrowed his catcher's mitt without asking? During a recent T-Ball practice for the 4- and 5-year-old Bonita Barons at Rohr Park, Coach Dan Way had to contend with these problems and more.

During football season, Jeff Rutledge of the New York Giants shares many of the same problems held by most of the National Football League's backup quarterbacks: the frustration of being No. 2, the endless waiting on the bench and the feeling that all the hard work and dedication may never pay off. But during the off-season, Rutledge faces something quite different. Something that at times can be as challenging as life in the NFL. And it sounds like this: "Coach, let me pitch!"

I saw my first T-ball game one recent Saturday morning out at Mar Vista Park on the Westside. My grandson, Casey, was playing first base for the Orioles against the Dodgers. If you are a baseball fan, a T-ball game may leave you in a state of permanent disorientation. Mere baseball will never seem the same again. The players were mostly boys between the ages of 6 and 8. I believe the Dodgers had one girl; the Orioles were supposed to have one girl but she didn't show up.

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.