Just got back from a workout. I don’t know why, after all these years, I am still doing it. The insanity of athletics is doing the same thing over and over as if it was the first time, with the same excitement, more, even, to jump hurdles, every day, or take a thousand ground balls, or run sprints on the beach, in the dark, alone.
We started our season, all of us, here in Israel, the kids, and the Old Guys like me. I will tell you all about the kids’ teams, as, by now, faithful reader, you must know, but, for now, I will tell you about our adult league in Israel, the Premier League.
There are 4 teams in the PL; The Raanana Raiders, The Modiin Miracles, The Tel Aviv Comrades, and the Jerusalem Lions. I am on the Lions. We are 2, 2, and 1, so far, according to our website (www.baseball.org.il), with 2 forfeits, not having the required 8 player minimum. A few days ago, in my second PL game, we played Raanana. We won 8-5. We had 8 guys, played with 2 outfielders, left-center, and right-center, but still managed a win.
The atmosphere was electric, let me tell you. There was even a fan, the shadow of a fan, at least, in the dark, behind the backstop, watching, quietly. You could hear the insects around our field like the faint echo of Major League playoff crowds 7,000 miles away, a total of 18 of us between the two teams, 21 counting the fan and 2 umps, some of us not even in uniform, under the lights, at Baptist Village, an orphanage turned baseball field that I also still have to tell you about, and shoot video of.
I am not sure why or what I am writing, exactly. I suppose I just wanted to reassure you, as I know how it effects your sense of All That Is Right, I am still practicing, and still playing. I might even still be getting better. But probably not.
I must apologize for not having any magical images, moving or not, to accompany this post, only these words, this time, sitting at my desk, looking down at the hole I have worn in my sock. Wait…
