Practice social distancing, but stay connected with your friends

Tucson Old Timers

60-and-over baseball

The last two days of March are upon us.

Along with the rest of the country and those of us lucky enough to remain isolated in our homes for most of the day, we continue to practice social distancing. It's hard, but we do what is necessary -- hiding, if you will... hourly, daily and weekly from the coronavirus.

We pray daily for the first responders...the doctors...the nurses, the grocery store clerks, our friends at the pharmacy...and even our newspaper delivery persons, who are up at the crack of down sorting...and then delivering our hometown paper. A paper which for the most part contains day-old news, but suddenly is becoming a close contact...a printed scroll, if you will -- allowing us to read on a daily basis about our neighbors and our fellow Tucsonans.

March, 2020 has blown by us. As for the 60-and-over Tucson Old Timers, the last official game was back on the ninth of the month. As of tomorrow, 21 days of being self-quarantined in the Old Pueblo, better known to outsiders as our hometown: Tucson, Arizona.

We lost a well-known Tucsonan yesterday. Richard Elias, a fixture on the Pima County Board of Supervisors since 2002, died at home, in his sleep, at the age of 61.

Tucson went through a recent cold spell. The last two days the early, morning temperatures dropped to 38 degrees -- a bit chilly for a year-around Tucson resident.

For 45 minutes, I ventured away from the house and drove to Udall Park yesterday morning and sat in the stands with seven of my teammates on the 60-and-over Tucson Old Timers. We sat, or stood six feet apart and for a few moments in time let loose with a few jokes and jibes at one another -- normally a usual occurrence for when we sit alongside each other in the dugout between innings of a regular-scheduled game at Udall.

I left, after the 45 minutes, and drove home with a smile on my face. Saying "hello" to my buddies was like a quick blood transfusion.

For the past three weeks, there has been no hits...no runs and no errors at our ball field. The pitching mound remains covered...the dugouts empty.

Until the dust settles and the coronavirus disappears, we remain steadfast -- awaiting our return to normalcy.

Take care my friends.

We'll be right back!

                                                Miss you guys, Pigpen Price