Keep eye on the ball

It has often been said that baseball is a metaphor for life. Something about the eternal hope of beating the odds, I suppose. Maybe that’s why millions of Americans play recreational softball, including a few thousand here in Alaska — one of whom is writing this column.

I know, I know, I’ve heard all the complaints about softball: there is a lot of standing around, not much aerobic benefit, it’s time consuming and draws a rough crowd. But I still like it. Not for the competition or fitness benefit so much as for the joy of playing a game outdoors with fun people. And probably because one of the constants in my life has always been softball — from my childhood games with my dad serving as umpire in Little League to recently buying my granddaughter a bat for her 8th birthday.

There are few things that have come more naturally than saying to her, “Keep your eye on the ball” just as my father once said to me.

On my son’s recent birthday, I dragged out baby pictures to show his new bride, and there he was in his little wind-up infant swing outdoors. We reminisced about the days when I would place him on the third base line in that swing and crank it up while I went out to play in the field. If my team didn’t get three outs quick, I would have to dash off the field to wind up the swing again.

But since it was Talkeetna, no one missed a beat. Not a lot of rules were enforced on the Talkeetna field back in those days.

I remember the first time I stepped on it circa 1982. Years before, the area was a garbage dump and occasionally a shard of glass or rusty tin can lid would turn up in the dirt.

Dogs wandered onto the base path before being shooed away. Airplanes took off and landed on the gravel strip behind center field. And a giant cottonwood tree blanketed home plate with downy strands.

Over the years, a ton of volunteer labor has resulted in improvements to the field, but the old personality is still intact, sort of like the town itself, which has gussied up with pavement and public restrooms but still has its rugged charm thanks to a general resistance to overblown commercial development.

Talkeetna residents are known for strong opinions, and disparate ones at times. But they have managed to reach some sort of agreement on what should remain constant about their town.

For the first time in nearly 30 years, my husband and I are spending a summer with no children nearby. They are scattered to the wind. We just bought a recreational cabin up north and plan to spend quite a bit of time there. That, coupled with the fact that our co-ed softball team disbanded, made us question if we would play softball at all this season.

At first I thought that would be fine. I reflected on the fact that I could do some yard work or home improvement. I began to think it could actually be good for me. I would have more time for “real” exercise, I would drink less beer, and I wouldn’t have to worry about hustling to the field after a tiresome commute from Anchorage.

But as I took my hockey bag out to the shed to store it for the summer, I spied my softball bag on the shelf. Without even thinking, I unzipped it and pulled out my mitt. I noticed a broken lace, so I brought it into the garage for a honey-do, and along the way picked up a ball and tossed it into the air a few times as I walked.

There was something about the way the ball settled into that pocket, and something else about the smell of the leather and the brittleness of the broken lace. I had a physical reaction similar to heartache, and I realized I was not ready to hang up the cleats. I was gonna have to find a new team.

Lots of things change: teams disband, towns get bigger and children grow up and scatter to the winds like cottonwood strands. But playing games, beating the odds and spending time outdoors with fun people are some of the things I want to remain constant in my life.

Hey, I know it’s only softball, but I like it. And I’ve got my eye on the ball.

Sammye Pokryfki lives, writes and dreams of game-winning hits in Wasilla. Contact her at sammyepokryfki@hotmail.com.