The Beer View Mirrors

As far as I can remember, T-Ball was the first organized sport that I became a part of. I can't be sure how old I was at the time. I was in grade school for sure, probably 9 or 10. My dad was a baseball fan, as was his father (and mother), so it was no suprise that as soon as I could walk he was pitching giant plastic baseballs to me in the backyard during the summer months, in-between flipping steaks on the grill. We graduated to a tennis ball when my abilities proved worthy, and later to the real deal. There is apple pie, turkey at Thanksgiving, and fireworks on the Forth of July. There is also an off-white sphere of leather encased cork and rubber, sewn together with 652 feet of red wool yarn, measuring 2.9 inches in diameter and weighing a little over 5 ounces.

Dad taught me the curve ball, the change up, the split finger and even the knuckleball (which I, to this day, have yet to master) and by the time T-Ball turned into Korey League Baseball I was set to be the pitcher. My father the coach. As time passed and our season drifted on without a single victory, I took it pretty hard. I wonder to this day if I was reason we went win-less for most of the season. I wondered too if I was the pitcher if only because he was the coach and we had practiced so hard in the backyard of 518 W. Adams for so long. I loved baseball, but i couldn't shake the feeling I was letting him down. And my team. I wasn't playing for my love, I was playing for my father's. During warm-ups before the last game of the season, I took a fly ball to the nose. I couldn't see straight, so the first baseman took over the pitching duties. I sat from the bench and watched as my team posted the season's only mark in the "Win" column. Needless to say that evening's victorious Dairy Queen sundae tasted a bit sour, despite multiple layers of butterscotch.

I gave it one more season, but after going 1-19 over two years I decided it was time to hang up the cleats. I hated telling my father. But, baseball just wasn't for me. I was into track and basketball, and was beginning to fall in love with golf (which turned out to make both my father and I much happier than baseball ever could). But, even after my career was over, we would still play catch in the summer while hamburgers cooked. Among my happiest memories.

Now, many years later, the desire to swing the bat and catch a deep fly ball has never left me. My love of baseball never diminished mind you, just the confidence in myself to achieve any degree of success while actually playing it. But, last summer some friends of mine joined a co-ed softball league. I tagged along to a couple games, mainly because there was a beer stand 30 feet from homeplate, to cheered them on, my "glory days" now long since passed. But as i sat there, swallowing $1.50 PBRs, something happened. Something in the pit of my stomach. The desire to catch a 70 mile an hour ground ball heading down the 3rd base line and turn a triple into an out. To crack the game winning single into left center field and earn my DQ sunday.

So last August I joined my friend's Fall team. I found some abilities remained, including the hand eye coordination necessary to judge a grounder, catch it, and throw it 60 feet, fast and on-line to the first baseman. I was still in love, but now I was playing for myself. Sure the ball may be bigger, and a little easier to hit, but the game provides the same adrenaline rush, opportunity for greatness, and physical danger i have always craved. While last Fall's league was winless, I looked forward to the spring... and practice.

This April, the Beer View Mirrors were formed. And we have had a blast. I've even moved to third base, a badge of honor i wear next to the multiple bruises the position intrinsically brings with it. In fact I've also been recruited to a Wednesday night team (in which i have been a part of 2 wins). Not much gets past me. And I HAVE fielded a 70 mile an hour grounder heading down the 3rd base line and turned it into an out. I HAVE batted in go ahead runs. And I don't mean to brag, but I'm one of the top players on the team, if not the league at shortstop and 3rd base. The comradery, post game bbqs, and new friends I've made are the icing on the cake.

I still have to laugh though. The Beer View Mirrors do have a victory on the season. But I wasn't there for it.

Our last game is tomorrow. I'll be out there fighting my hardest for for a victory.
And possibly a little redemption.