BASEBALL (JT Sunden)
I once had a Little League game cancelled due to elephant shit (TRUE STORY) and this is my fictionalized accounting of it for you and all of you 1969 Miracle Mets fans.
The power of the pyramids, one of the seven wonders of the world. If you know anything about the seven wonders, then you know that they can be destroyed. The pyramids stand, and they are used as a symbol of power by such things as insurance, pest control, and my brother's company. No wonder people aren't happy.
Indeed the pyramids are impressive. Built around 2700 BC they still stand. The Khufu Pyramid stands 482 feet high and us 756 feet wide at its base. The tomb for Khufu covers 13 acres. I can see why people come to see them, they are pretty impressive stuff until you figure Khufu is just a dead guy.
I don't know what happened, but it happened to me. I guess it isn't all bad, though. The good part about being knocked to the ground is that you start with your feet there.
When I was nine my best friend and I really loved baseball. We loved the Mets. My favorite player was Cleon Jones and he loved Tommy Agee; Bud Harrellson didn't do much for either of us, Ed Charles played third and we were always imitating Ron Swoboda's catch.
Buzz played for the Red Sox. He was an outfielder. I played third for the Pilots. I hope you realize I'm talking Little League here.
Anyway, back when you are nine your greatest fear is a rain-out. School was spent looking out the window for clouds. Grey clouds brought a tightness to your stomach on game day. Our teams were scheduled to play once that year. The day was a gray one, but, the rain held off. At 5:30 we were packed into the back of my family's station wagon and headed for the most fierce competition of our young lives. I'm sure we must have had our favorite debate --- the merits of Duffy Dyer versus Jerry Grote. After concluding that Dyer should be the Mets' true catcher, we arrived at the field to be met with a postponement.
Just one day earlier our ballfield was covered with tents from the so called "Big Top." Well, the "big tops" were gone, but, the elephant shit wasn’t. Not being incredibly familiar with elephant shit, I’m sure we would have just assumed to pile it up and use it for bases. We might have even went blindly ahead with our Swoboda’s attempts, though maybe I am wrong here.
It was at about this time that Buzz and I learned that there was such a thing as a high school baseball team. We both concluded that we would be playing on that team, though, at the time, I wasn't even sure what a high school was.
While making up our imaginary Met lineup for an afternoon Whiffleball game (they actually made Whiffleballs in our hometown), Buzz asked me what was then one of life’s great questions …
“Would you rather play on a bad high school baseball team where you played all the time or on a really great team where you were a substitute?"
We both concluded we would rather play on the poor team where we could play all the time. I actually had that wish come through, though, it was one of the least satisfying experiences of my life.
My family moved away from the Whiffleball city and I never again saw Buzz after I was twelve. I do think of him though. I think about that question and wonder what kind of team he played on, or if he played at all.
