Surely we need a thread on this, too.
I've had several positive moments -- some even in college playing intramurals and as an adult playing in city leagues. But one of my best was in my last game of Little League baseball. I was twelve (1972), and I often played shortstop. My manager thought I wouldn't make the all-star team as a shortstop so he moved me to second base for the last game. (That's the reason he gave, at least.) We were ahead by a run or two in the bottom of the last inning, with the other team at bat. They filled the bases with no outs. The next batter hits a line drive just to the right of second base. I got a good jump and snagged it, putting me three feet from second base. The runner was a few feet off, thinking the ball was going through. I stepped on second. The kid from third was trying to score. I throw home and the catcher tags him out. (I don't think the kid actually tagged up, but the play happened so quickly that the umpires didn't notice; in the end, it didn't matter.) So, the game ends on a triple play with the bases loaded, and we win. I didn't make the all-star team.
There's a sad note to this story. After the game, I was interviewed on local radio by one Dale Eidson, who was a local celebrity of sorts because he was invited to try out as a rookie kicker with the San Diego Chargers in 1971. On July 4th, 1971, he blew his legs off in a fireworks accident. Just like that, his dream was gone. Instead, he hung around my hometown, Concord, CA, and did radio and good works.
I've had several positive moments -- some even in college playing intramurals and as an adult playing in city leagues. But one of my best was in my last game of Little League baseball. I was twelve (1972), and I often played shortstop. My manager thought I wouldn't make the all-star team as a shortstop so he moved me to second base for the last game. (That's the reason he gave, at least.) We were ahead by a run or two in the bottom of the last inning, with the other team at bat. They filled the bases with no outs. The next batter hits a line drive just to the right of second base. I got a good jump and snagged it, putting me three feet from second base. The runner was a few feet off, thinking the ball was going through. I stepped on second. The kid from third was trying to score. I throw home and the catcher tags him out. (I don't think the kid actually tagged up, but the play happened so quickly that the umpires didn't notice; in the end, it didn't matter.) So, the game ends on a triple play with the bases loaded, and we win. I didn't make the all-star team.
There's a sad note to this story. After the game, I was interviewed on local radio by one Dale Eidson, who was a local celebrity of sorts because he was invited to try out as a rookie kicker with the San Diego Chargers in 1971. On July 4th, 1971, he blew his legs off in a fireworks accident. Just like that, his dream was gone. Instead, he hung around my hometown, Concord, CA, and did radio and good works.
