I find it interesting, amusing and a little sad that what Greg Dunn today describes as "magic" we once would have described as routine, common, everyday - a way of life, really. I'm talking baseball and what happens on the rare occasions when kids get together, pretty much on their own, and start a game. This happened last week in Baltimore, and these days that's something worth writing home about.
And it gave me an idea.
But first, let's hear from Mr. Dunn, whose company, The Crew Works, stages, manages and staffs concerts, film productions and other such events. The company also sponsors a teen-level team, the Jets, in the venerable Roland Park Baseball League, and therein lies the "magic" Mr. Dunn was moved to report.
Last Wednesday, at a baseball field in Medfield, on Wood Heights Avenue, the Jets' opponent, the Lions, came up several players short of a full team.
Faced with the prospect of a canceled game, Jets coach Bart Stocksdale and Lions coach Matt Fischer made a quick decision to blend the two rosters and play on.
"As 6:15 rolled around, we officially 'won' [by forfeit]," says Mr. Dunn. "And then the real fun began."
In the next few minutes, the talent was divided and the rules of the game hatched. The coaches became official pitchers. The umpire became a player and took left field for one of the teams.
"The Lions coach was in the game, along with one of his former players who had just showed up to say hey, and one of ours," says Mr. Dunn.
Medfield lads often hang out at the games - spectators or passers-by. This time, one of them noticed something odd and asked Mr. Dunn if the game under way was "official," meaning, of course, a game in which only registered RPBL players were allowed to play.
"The red team doesn't have enough guys so we're just messing around," Mr. Dunn told the boy.
"Can I play for the red team?" the boy snapped.
A fine idea, that. So the Medfield boy ran onto the grass and, in the next few minutes, four more neighborhood kids appeared on the field.
"It was the way we grew up," Mr. Dunn says. "Show up at the field with your glove and hope that enough other kids did, too. Choose up sides, set the ground rules to the circumstances and play until forever.
"That's not the way my son, Kevin, or most of the people he knows are growing up. It's clich?d already - we have changed away from our own childhood to organize our kids' lives. We know that. The thing is, not every family can arrange for their kids to play organized sports, nor should they have to."
