Americana

I feel like it's been years since I had a Friday evening like that one. Just hours before twilight we were playing tennis and enjoying the weather at the park. The sun was just hot enough to make you sweat but not hot enough to make you sweaty. As Brian and I finished, a softball game formed on the field next to us. Softball sounded like much more fun than the miserable tennis match we just had. When they asked if Brian want to play, he jumped at the chance. Redemption.

This group was like something out of a movie. The quintessential good ole boys. Drinking beer in the park, playing softball. 17 year old boys played next to 60 something year old men. There was a Doc and an Art. Of course! A setting like this practically required one.

Disagreements over bad calls and close calls were settled as quickly as they began. Each team umpired their own. Good catches were rewarded with a small cheer and instant recall of the out count. Bad plays were punished with relentless cat calls. Every old man thought he could make the play if he were younger, faster and just a little skinnier. We all think that though. If only.

As a whole, they didn't let much slide. Pat quickly became Patrica as soon as his weak pop out was caught by the pitcher. A nickname like that doesn't subside quickly. But a bobble by the more than capable first baseman that allowed Doc to reach first base received nothing but comments on Docs speed and agility.

Score was kept on loose leaf. But the number of beers in the cooler was a much closely kept count. We ran out. Whoever thought a 12 pack was enough got an ear-full for sure.

From the outside, you would have thought these men have known each other for years. Many of them probably have. Others joined later and were tagged "the young one", "the outfielder" even "the strong one." That was Brian. My nickname? "Roids" Yeah, like steroids. Apparently, any girl who can hit a softball has to be on some sort of performance enhancing drug. I think they were just impressed I could hit at all. I took it as a compliment.

They asked if Brian would play again this Friday. Even though I don't get to play, I still might go. The ease and enjoyment of the evening reminded me how simple life should be. You don't have to be going going all the time to find pleasure in life. Pleasure on Friday night came in the form of a beer, some bases and good company.