Yesterday I was fortunate to find myself with a little free time after work. It was a nice day, with the sun out and shining. Though forecasted, no rain had dared to show it’s face, so I wondered to myself just what I could get up to. My camera was in the car, and I had heard of a rumor. There was baseball going on. I had to go.
I hadn’t been to a high school baseball game in eight years, since I played as a senior in high school. I think anytime in your life when you can make the claim that it’s been “eight years” since you’ve done something, you can be reassured that life passes us by much quicker than we’d like. I had held on to many fond memories of my high school baseball career. Let’s see, there were the bags of licorice and sunflower seeds eaten while sitting on the bench. There was a season opener where we played through a snowfall. I had one miraculous Ken Griffey Jr., over-the-shoulder catch in deep centerfield. In addition to that there was my one double, where I consequently stepped off the bag and the second baseman tagged me out (I’d only ever gotten to first before). As you can see baseball was never really a career dream for me. Alas it was fun to be out there.
Armed with a camera and nostalgia, I headed straight to Kingsland’s (Spring Valley, MN) baseball diamonds. In fact, since I had played we only really combined with LeRoy-Ostrander. This was a new place, with new faces all around. I only recognized a couple parents that still had kids in the school system. Eager to try out my new camera equipment on some baseball action, I lined up next to a writer for a local newspaper and started firing away.
By the time the game had ended, I was cold. It had been a good experience, a learning opportunity and I’d made some observations along the way. Such as, baseball just didn’t seem as fast as it used to. How could I have been so bad at it when things didn’t seem to move as quickly as I remembered? Must be the difference between being inside and outside of the chain-link. Also, we’d always had a bit of a quiet team in old Grand Meadow. In eight years apparently that hadn’t changed. While our opponents cheered each other on, met at the mound before starting the inning, and showed lots of signs of camaraderie, we appeared apathetic at best by comparison. Granted, if there’s one thing I remember for certain, is that it’s hard to be excited about trailing in the game. We didn’t come away with the win this time.
I’m not an analyst by any means. I could however, see that we had some obvious talent and room for improvement. The season is young and I hope to make it to a few more games to see my old team put some dashes in the win column. It’s like reopening a little chapter in one’s history, and wanting to reread it. I can’t do much to change my old stories at this point but I can find a way to document new ones and share it with others. That of course is the basis for my passion with photography anyways. So should there be any interest in seeing the rest of the game and any future ones I can be at, by all means give me a holler.
Until next time, take a moment to hear the crack of a bat, the thud of a well thrown ball in a leather glove, and the roar of a crowd as your favorite team puts another number on the scoreboard. Let’s play ball!