The Last at Bats

 

The Last At Bats

From the desk of Dan Price

An article written for the forum, Medium.com.

The grizzly old codger steps to the plate one more time…his bones are creaking…his knees are weak…his eyesight isn’t what it used to be, but he has done it before…the same thing over and over again.

There will be another pitch coming his way and that’s all, at the age of 76, he can ask for.

The senior citizen has only so many pitches coming his, or her, way. They have fouled off their share of pitches over the years — they’ve been hit with curve balls, and maybe an occasional fastball that has blindsided them and they have hit the dirt, dusted themselves off and returned to the batter’s box.

Yes, this old author (photo below) is using my at bats as a way of explaining the ups and downs of life.

Probably James Earl Jones said it best in the baseball movie, Field of Dreams, as he convinces Ray not to sell the farm.

“The one constant through all the years…has been baseball.”

Well, in my case, maybe it has been, but in real life we all get to take our cuts. How we connect with what has been thrown at us and how we continue to make our path forward, down the highway we have selected, is up to us.

No life umpire can call balls and strikes for us.

Not everyone is meant to hit home runs, either.

We are all such a diverse group. Many, many walks of life amongst us. That’s the beauty of it all. All of us step to the plate and take our cuts, follow our dreams…seek new goals and yet we succeed or fail on our own time.

When I claw my way out of bed in the morning, I’ll be another year older and I’ll await the sounds of seventy-six trombones. Luckily, I’ll have no need to turn up the hearing aids. So far, I’ve avoided that particular disability.

Chances are the only music that’ll filter through my noggin’ is when I tune in the 60s channel later in the day and listen to tunes from my era — back when the pitches were coming fast and furious, at a time when my life was just getting started.

It was so easy to adjust back then. Our armor was on tight. No dents had accumulated on our protective gear…always remaning shiny from one day to the next.

But now we are senior citizens. At least, the majority of my readers are.

Many of my friends were born in the 1940s and their minds float backward to those Happy Days …back in the 1960s. Why that is I do not know? I would have loved to have grown up in the 40s, too…maybe even the roaring 20s, as well.

If I had the opportunity, I’d go back in time. Michael J. Fox, where are you?

If given the chance to be a time traveler, I’d hop on board.

I would take that pitch for sure…and another…and another.

I remember many, many years ago, sitting on the hood of my car on top of A Mountain, eyeing the Tucson sunset behind me, followed by the twinkling of the city lights toward the east as night time appeared across the valley. Fifty-five years of sunrises have come and gone since I was a 21-year-old. A lot has happened.

I’ve lost my share of friends and relatives…and teammates. Being a senior citizen, allows you to step back from the plate at times and reflect…remember…recall…and covet what has come and gone.

There are still some sunrises and sunsets left to witness.

That alone is music to my ears.

I will play in my final Men’s Senior Baseball League World Series next week, possibly a grueling six or seven games in seven days. Not an easy task if you happen to be an old-timer who has lived three quarters of a century.

Fourteen years I have stepped to the plate and played my constant in life: baseball.

Although my plate appearances will be ending, I still have plenty of game left.

Note: Over 300 teams and over 3,500 players are in Phoenix, October/2021, to play in the 34th annual Men’s Senior Baseball League World Series. Below is the headquarters for the event: Tempe Diablo Stadium, spring training home of the Los Angeles Angels.