Well, it is more than baseball, actually, it is kitten ball, T ball, softball, AND baseball.
Did you ever go to those home games where the local adults played? Honk the horn when 'your' team did something great? Times were simple, the towns were close together and any given Sunday afternoon throughout the summer parents took children along to either play in the dirt while mother's sat in the car with the door open to let the breeze flow and father sat in the grand stand and talked and smoke cigars with the other men. That would be the beginning of my long time enjoyment of the sport.
In the late grades in elementary school, Mr. Beadle of Northrop, started a soft ball team. The only person that had a glove was the catcher; the rest of us learned to catch bare handed. Did we play other schools? Someone else would have that answer.
The high school at that time was grade seven through twelve. Girls in 7-10 were to be in a gym class. The curriculum was standard; six weeks of basketball mixed with ice skating, and in the spring, softball. It was a great time because we could wear something other than those red, one piece gym suits. Most of the girls liked jeans, Prowler sweatshirts, and for head gear, sailor caps. What I remember is Mrs. Ulferts telling Phyllis and Jane to get out from under a piece of cardboard which they had shagged to use as a cover because they were cold.
Why is it that high school baseball seems to take a back seat to football, hockey, basketball, track, and wrestling in yearbooks? Old Trunks dug into the books from 1960-1962. Each one of the years, the bats men did well; a half page was provided. I am pleased to see these fellows at least were given the distinction of being letterman, at least in the year book.
Let's move along to my own children: Rachel played T-ball, then softball. One year, her Girl Scout troop wanted to learn a softball badge. How fun it was to be included as the coach.
Bud had spent numerous hours with Rachel's softball team. At the end of first grade, he was ready to play ball but he was too young to join one of the city leagues. He tried out for the Tigers and won a spot! The coach called him a vacuum cleaner, nothing much got by him. He would continue to try out and play throughout his elementary years. The last year, the coach agreed they if they won the championship, the team could paint his legs red and he would run the bases. Bud would play two more years before hanging up his cleats.
Ryen tried it one summer. It wasn't his thing.
Although I have stats from years ago, what I remember most is Bud waking me early in the morning to play catch. For each catch, he got a penny. The maximum number of pennies per morning was 50. After we were finished, he would hop on his bike and go to the Kwik Shop for an Icee. Every car we had through out the baseball careers included the passenger door of the vehicle having dents; it served as a back stop whether it was a game of catch or a neighborhood game. And who can forget buying an aluminum bat for Rachel that was too long for her? We called it the "chink" bat because that is what it sounded like when the ball hit it.
And neither will we forget the softball with the rope drilled through it. The idea was to swing it over an adults head and watch the eyes of the batter to be certain they were actually looking at the ball when they swung at it. Or Alison, a lefty, standing near the plate with the bat on her shoulder because her dad said that she would get on because she was a lefty. And remembering the expression on her face when she was told to swing. And how parent's who had children that pitched worked out on a one to one in their own back yards just so the kids felt good about their job as a team member. And the girls knew and the boys knew that it was a team.
Perhaps it doesn't seem as simple as the boys from Rosewood School in New Solum Township; yet, regardless of how many rules, the cost of uniforms, sponsors, try outs, the best shoes, the best glove, and the size of the cheering crowd, it is really as simple as a group of kids playing as a unit. The spirit of the play is no different if you are playing in Roue's front yard and David breaks his collarbone than if you are stealing from first to second base in an official game or when Stanley from Rosewood, a right hander, bat left because he could get on base.
In 1895 Lewis Rober, a member of the Minneapolis, Minnesota, fire department, invented outdoor softball and called it Kitten League Ball, later shortened to Kitten Ball. Rober invented the game to keep the firemen in shape and busy during the time they spent at the firehouse. In subsequent years the popularity of Kitten Ball spread throughout the United States. In 1922 the name Kitten Ball was changed to Diamond Ball. The name softball was not developed until 1926
No matter what the sport; sportsmanship
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