My Sixty-five Year Old Baseball Bat

Back in the 50's and 60's I was a kid who slept with my glove, had my Carl Yastrzemski bat by my bed and played sandlot baseball until the snow got too deep and my dreams were filled with being a professional baseball player... Back then girls were not allowed to play on organized teams at all but some of us continued to find ways to play the game we loved with the guys.  By the time I was in high school I settled on playing softball. I was as devoted to it as I had been to baseball and was fortunate to be involved as a player, a coach or an umpire for almost three decades. My understanding of the game of baseball was used in my softball life but I never lost my love affair with baseball. The Boston Red Sox were and still are my team.  Strolling down Yawkey Way when the Sox were hosting the Yankees was a lifetime memory. Sitting in the bleachers about as far away from home plate as possible looking over to the green monster always left me in awe. I kept an eye on the standings, held my breath through the division championships and stayed awake for every pitch throughout the World Series. These were the days before brands were marketed on helmets or shoes  and the only baseball glove seen was a deeply tanned and worn brown with  Spaulding, Wilson or Rawlings sewn on the strap. Wrist wraps and elbow protectors did not exist and base runners did not wear mittens! The game did not take almost half a day to complete with players seemingly only swinging for the fences and the battery didn't wear earpieces. Perfect sacrifice bunts, delayed double steals on pitchers and catchers moving runners around the diamond kept us on the edge of our seats until I found my love affair with how the game was being played much like a never ending traffic problem so I took a very long hiatus, like almost thirty years until I read that MLB had decided that they needed to do something because their fan base was departing...

I told myself I would keep an eye on things and see just how much change was really going to happen and this was the year I decided to return to some checking stats, viewing and committing to watching at least the American League divisional playoffs. It was good to see the old tobacco chewing and spitting was now replaced with sunflower sprays and gum bubbles. There appeared to be less crotch adjustments and fewer mound jigs, perhaps players watching the Jumbo Screen helped that but seeing Yawkee Way now called Jersey Street hurt. The game progressed a bit quicker with fewer meetings at the mound and both pitchers and batters seemed to speed up their rituals of ball rubbing and Velcro checking of batting gloves and elbow pads. Teams were still swinging for the fences and home runs were propelling fans out of their seats but one team for certain was playing my old fashion kind of baseball...scrappy, unselfish, hair messing gritty defense and offense. I was seeing steals, bunts, bloopers dropping, rundowns and steady traffic on the bases. They looked and felt like kids having sandlot fun and their only thought was to get on base. What joy I found in getting lost in their skills and hustle and when they won the American League Division I was hooked. This 2025 Toronto Blue Jay team stole my heart. It was a beautiful thing to watch them play and to witness, in this age of team rosters costing three billion ( 3 B), that titles can't always be bought. Baseball was created to play with heart, for players to be willing to lay down bunts and to do whatever it took to move players around the horn to touch home plate. On this day, at this time, the Series is tied 1 to 1. Whether the Blue Jays win or lose the series I will continue to look at my bat (above pic) by my bed every day and smile. 

Jackie Pelletier