This post is dedicated to my friend Ronda.

I was 8 years old when I played organized baseball for the first time.  It was tee ball and my games were at Harvey West Park in Santa Cruz.  I don’t remember much about the games back then except for the time I hit a ball over the outfielder’s head.   The sound of my mother’s scream still rings in my head.  The adrenaline bolt I felt then I feel today when I do the same thing.  There’s something about the feeling you get when you crush a baseball that’s nearly indescribable except maybe it’s just like hitting the one perfect golf shot you hit each round that makes you want to come back.  When the magic happens, after so many frustrating swing attempts, you don’t feel anything except exhilaration as the ball soars off your bat.  You can hear a sound like no other when you hit a ball well – you know you’ve hit it good – and then unlike golf in an instant you know it’s time to run.

Now, some 40 plus years later, I still play the game.  In High School, I played Football and Basketball and I was a decent player but it was baseball where I excelled. After 4 years of baseball in college at the NCAA Division 2 level, I took a few years off, coached a co-ed softball team where my wife and I were teammates and champions, and then I moved to Boston and returned to playing baseball.  I haven’t stopped since.  Nowadays, I have to remind my friends it’s not softball, it’s baseball that I play.  You know, smaller ball, 90 feet between the bases, the pitcher stands 60 feet 6 inches away from home plate and throws overhand from a mound.

I exercise regularly just so I can continue to play baseball.  No game gives me greater joy.  I even like practice because I know everything I do outside of the game is preparing me to play the game.  Playing baseball means having the ability to produce bursts of speed at any moment but it also means endurance.  You need to be in shape to play 9 innings after 8 hours of work.

Playing on work nights can be tough.  The baseball fields where I play are about 20 miles east of downtown Portland and I work about 20 miles west.  It can sometimes take 2 hours through commute traffic to get to the field.  I usually arrive just 30 minutes before the start of the game.  I pull into the parking lot and change into my uniform.  The inside of my Ford Escape smells like a locker room.  I grab my bat bag, my helmet, and my uniform top.  I never put on my uniform top until just the beginning of a game.  One of my superstitions.  I head to the dugout and greet my teammates and put on my spikes.

I have a pregame routine I learned in college and seldom deviate from it.  I deeply stretch my legs starting with the hamstrings, then my quadriceps, groin, and calves.  I stretch my lower back and my arms.  Then I do about a 6-8 wind sprints of about 100 feet.  Next it’s time to throw.  These days it doesn’t take quite as long to warm up my arm.  A dozen or two throws and I’m good to go.

Next up is infield practice, if there’s time, before the start of the game.  Infield is one of those pregame rituals that I really love.  The juices start flowing and gets you ready to play.  There’s a routine here too.  The coach hits balls to the outfielders – left first, then center, and ends with right.  Throws go to second base, third, and finally home.  When the outfielders are done, it’s time for us infielders.  Groundballs start with the 3rd basemen going to first base, then the shortstop, the second baseman, and then my coach likes the 1st basemen to throw to 3rd base.  I’m not sure why exactly.  The 1st basemen seldom, if ever, throws to 3rd.  We have a round where we turn double plays and finally end with throws home.  The whole process can take just 5-10 minutes.  The warm up is as critical now as it’s ever been to an old baseball player like me.

It’s usually at this point where I check the lineup to see where I’m hitting in the order and what position I’m playing.  I’m an infielder.  Depending on who shows up, I could be at 1st, 2nd, Shortstop, or 3rd base.  I don’t care.  I like them all.  I hit anywhere from 4th to 6th in the batting order.

With only 5 minutes before the start, as the coaches are exchanging the lineup cards and talking to the umpires, I realize I’ve got to go to the bathroom.  Even now, I still get overly excited to play this game.  I sometimes have to go 2 or 3 times.  If  I wasn’t still thrilled to play the game, I wouldn’t play.  It’s not jitters.  I’m not nervous.  I’m excited.  I want to go.  Go hard.  I’m a competitive son of a bitch, so I want to win.  Every time.

Baseball is a funny game.  You fail more than you succeed  which is why I probably love it so much.  When you do get a hit, make a great play, win, you cherish it like your first love.  You never want it to end.  You want it to last forever.  But, failure can happen too just like that bringing you back down like someone hammering a nail that’s sticking out.  You succeed.  You fail.  You fail again and again and again.  When you win, it’s here and then it’s gone like a spring rain.  It’s here and then it’s gone.  It’s here and then it’s gone.

I learned at a very young age when you step between the white lines you run to your position, you don’t walk.  So, when I take the field, I run.  Charlie Baker never wants to be called a lollygagger.  There are a lot of pitches in a baseball game over 100 in most.  Your mind wanders.  You have to concentrate on every pitch and expect every ball is going to be hit to you.  You also need to think about the countless scenarios of where you should be going if the ball isn’t hit to you like covering a base, backing up, or being a cutoff man.  Baseball is about routines.  It’s about making the plays you’re supposed to make.  It’s not the team that makes the great plays who win the game, it’s the teams who make the routine plays every time that wins.

Hitting is an entirely different experience than fielding.  It’s 1 on 1.  You have to be ready to swing at every pitch.  You also need to be looking at your 3rd base coach for any signs a play might be on like a steal, bunt, or hit and run.  If no play is on, then like Yogi Berra once said, “Baseball is 90 percent mental. The other half is physical.”  Inside the batter’s box, I talk to myself like Crash Davis did in  the movie Bull Durham.”  Throw that shit again, Meat. Throw that weak-ass shit again.”  Mentally, you have to think you’re invincible.  Anything that pitcher throws, you can hit it.  If you have any doubts whatsoever, you’re out.  If you think take a pitch vs. swing, you’re out.

Baseball is the ultimate team game in that you need the other 8 guys not only to play their positions and help you get outs and but to knock you in to score runs.  Plus, your teammates help pick you up after you’re feeling down when you make a mistake or fail to come through at the plate.  Baseball is a game of failure.  The best hitters in the game fail 7 out of 10 times.  When you’re not hitting well, it can wear on you.  Going hitless can kill your self confidence and make you feel like a worthless teammate.  You always need to pick yourself back up and trust you’ll get ’em next time.  There are other ways to contribute to winning like playing stellar, error free, defense.  Winning isn’t all that matters.  Feeling like you’ve contributed to the win is all that matters.

I’m going to play baseball for as long as I can.  The game is in my blood and is who I am.  It’s taught me so much and made me so tough that even the worst day at work can’t bring me too far down because I know there will always be teammates to pick me back up and another chance to enjoy those briefest moments of success.