Just a Visit

Yesterday was a Sunday so perfect as to make your heart ache, not a cloud in the sky, hardly any breeze, temperature nearing 70 degrees.  Congress should decree this the official weather for 12-inch softball.

Instead, it was a game between the current players at Elmhurst College and alums, Clare being an alum.  I knew most of her teammates, had rooted for them on days when the sky was gray, the wind howled, and the temperature refused to budge out of the 40s.  Originally, the alums intended to play without an audience.  Yeah, right.  I wasn’t the parent who said “No way” first, but I’d like to thank the one(s) who did.  I even remembered some of their faces from spring games so long ago.

Elmhurst’s best pitcher ever played as did the school’s best-ever power hitter (Clare, right field).  For two years, I never once saw the pitcher’s father within 150 feet of his daughter when she played; he stood out beyond the outfield fence, so no one could see him agonizing over every pitch and call.  Yesterday, he sat, a smile on his face, along with all the other parents.  “How long did it take you to get over it?”  I asked.  “Two years,” he said.  That sounds about right, if you factor in flashbacks.

The alums did pretty good for being out of season, if not out of shape, losing by a score of 7-4.  Clare went 1 for 3 with a single and should’ve had a walk to end a great nine-pitch at-bat, but umpire was asleep standing up, as I like to say.

Same place, same time, next year.  I can hope.