Reflections from an old ballplayer

Men's Senior Baseball League World Series


There is a moment in time every year when I pack my gear, load my car and journey the 100 miles from Tucson to Phoenix to play in the Men's Senior Baseball League World Series.

It's always in mid-October and the players arrive to play the game they love -- baseball. Over 3,000 players and 330 teams from all over the country live a dream for a week. Only a hand full have played pro ball. The majority are amateurs, men who have the chance to play at all the spring training facilities in and around Phoenix -- from Goodyear to Surprise. From Tempe, to Mesa, to Peoria.

There are divisions for 18-year-olds and all the way, would you believe, to a 73-and-over division. Yes, every player wants to be on a winning team -- on a team that takes home a championship ring, but, more importantly, it's the camaraderie and the friendships they obtain throughout the week.

I've made the journey to the MSBL World Series 11 times. I've now run out of divisions. At 73, I get a chance to take the field and play one more time. Even at my age I still get anxious and toss and turn every night, waiting impatiently for the next game.

And then the game begins and I await my next chance at a ground ball, a fly ball or the experience of turning a double play or getting the winning hit. I enjoy the time in the dugout, hashing over stories with my teammates -- discussing our college days, or recalling the pro players we've had a chance to meet, play with, and against -- and all the shenanigans we have experienced during those youthful times.

At my age, time is passing quickly. And so it is with my MSBL World Series adventure. In a few days, the games will be complete, the rings and the trophies will be handed out and I'll say goodbye to all my teammates.

Every year, I think to myself will I be back? Is there another year in me? Can I put my body through this again? As October rolls around in 2019, I'll say "yes, I can."