A Tale to Regale

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me, Samuel Clemens, to regale you with the tale of a 16-inch softball game that unfolded in the heart of the North Shore on Tuesday evening.  

Captain Cougar has kindly requested that I put pen to paper and summarize your latest victory with a flourish of wit and humor.  We both share a love of nicknames and pseudonyms, as well as satire and a little truth stretching, so let’s recap the story Mark Twain style.

The magnificent sport of 16-inch softball, was birthed in 1887, soon after I crafted the adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.  Sadly, I was not present in the big-shouldered city to capture the beginnings of this competitive pastime, where men shed their burdens and embrace the spirit of youthful play.

Ah, my dear reader, let me take you back to the Gilded Age.  Days of yore when Chicago was a bustling city, and the air was filled with the crack of a weighty bat and the mighty ball meeting bare leathery hands.  No gloves were employed, forsooth!

Picture, if you will, a jovial gathering of sturdy fellows, their sleeves rolled up, engaging in mirthful sport. It was a time when men gathered on the green fields, under the blazing sun, to partake in the sport that would become the stuff of legends.

Chicago, in its infinite wisdom, had birthed a sport unlike any other. A sport that required not the dainty touch of a small ball, but the strength of a warrior's arm to heave that 16-inch monster across the diamond. It was a game that demanded both precision and power, as the batters swung with all their might, hoping to send that behemoth sailing into the distant horizon.  It was a sport that brought people together, bridging the gaps of class, race, and age, uniting them in a common pursuit of glory and joy.

Oh, the tales I could have woven and the characters I could have introduced to the world!  But alas, my dear reader, time slips through our fingers like sand, and opportunities, once lost, are often lost forever. 

Alas, those pages remained blank, and my tales remained unspoken. But mark my words, my dear reader, for I shall endeavor to impart some of those memories to you now, if only in fragments.

Now, mind you, watching from high above the hallowed grounds of Howard Park, I was but a humble observer of this glorious game, a keen eye for the human drama unfolding below me. Yet, in those moments, as I watched the players chase after that oversized orb, I couldn't help but be captivated by their skill, their passion, and the unmistakable spirit of camaraderie that bound them together.

In the land of Howard Park, the Cougars, those nimble beasts, clashed with the Chicken Dingers and emerged victorious with a resounding score of 16-8.  Remaining unblemished in this young season, the Cougars have won three games in succession.

It was an encounter teeming with noteworthy moments.

Amongst them, the Cougars unveiled their mastery of the Wheel Play, a testament to their profound comprehension of the game's intricacies. A play not shrouded in trickery, but rather a testament to their audacity to push the boundaries of the rules.

Kev, in a moment that shall forever be etched in his memory, unleashed his first-ever home run.  A monumental feat witnessed by his little progenies, Elise and James. Their joyful countenances brightened the field as their father crossed home plate. At the end of the video you can hear Elise's delightful voice exclaiming, "Daddy's so good!"  Yes, little miss, he certainly is!

CRads, with strength coursing through his veins, approached the plate with determination etched upon his brow. With a mighty swing, he launched the ball into the great beyond, far beyond the reach of the Chicken Dingers’ defenders, and he danced around the bases in a merry circle.

Ah, the misfortune that befell Ev, for his mighty hit went over the top of the fence, on a bounce no less, thus declaring it a ground rule double. One cannot help but draw a comparison to the plight of Tom Sawyer, doomed to whitewash that dreaded fence as punishment.

The top of the order, comprised of Kev, Ev, and CRads, struck the ball with great fervor, amassing a total of 12 hits and 11 runs.

Martini, the Cougars’ fearless crafty pitcher, displayed his mettle both on the mound and at the plate, securing four hits and striking fear into the hearts of the adversary.

JD and Joker unleashed their power for four hits and two runs repeatedly sending the ball sailing high above the verdant expanse.

Li'l Rads, ever the steadfast defender, plucked every ball that came his way while stationed at first base, even delivering a crucial hit of offense when the stakes were high.

It was Pastor Ted, invoking the spirit of antiquity, who executed a chop hit, only known to the seasoned veterans of 16-inch softball, which left our opponent praying for deliverance.

Kev, Boom, and Big Ball Jimmy formed an unassailable wall in the outfield, rendering the field smaller for those unfortunate batters who dared to challenge them.

Captain Cougar and Crawdaddy, their weary bodies protesting the passage of time, languished on the bench, hoping to preserve their strength for battles yet to come.  Philthy, a commentator par excellence, regaled the crowd with his in-game banter, rivaling the heralded voices of yesteryear. And Diamond Dave, living up to his moniker, etched all 16 diamonds in the scorebook with the finesse of a true artist.

Your valiant Cougars were not alone in their endeavors as the dusty diamond was festooned with an array of fervent fans, their cheers resounding through the air.

But let us not dwell in the depths of nostalgia, for this game is now history.  The Cougars upcoming schedule looms ahead, replete with challenges of considerable magnitude.

The league opposition, keenly aware of our potent offense, are setting their sights on the Cougars. The men must tighten their game and fortify their defensive skills to withstand the upcoming onslaught. It is a test of mettle that awaits them, where victory hangs in the balance, and only the resilient shall prevail.

As dusk settled upon the horizon in the quaint hamlet of Wilmette, the lights of the field cast long shadows upon the valiant competitors.  To them, this game was more than mere sport because it was a reflection of their indomitable spirit, a testament to the unyielding resolve of the Chicagoan soul.

As I leave you, dear reader, I find myself humbled and filled with gratitude as the guest writer for your esteemed publication.  You have fulfilled a long held wish to immortalize this spirited pastime, where men transform into children and the field becomes a canvas for their joyous endeavors.   

“Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do. Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do.” — Mark Twain

“Go Cougars!” – Mark Twain, probably

 

POSTSCRIPT

Okay, okay, that was not Mark Twain.  While recovering from my injury, I read a book called If I Never Get Back by Darryl Brock.  It is a book about baseball in the late 1800s and Twain makes an appearance.  Much of the book has Twain’s flourish, so I started highlighting passages, phrases, and words to use in a future blog.  Also, I re-read Tom Sawyer and did the same.  Lots of Google searches were used, and I also made creative use of the thesaurus. (That’s how I found festooned!)  So basically, I pieced together Twain-ish words to the game highlights like patchwork.  It was not so much writing, rather more of a puzzle.  Sort of like taking different swaths from Monet’s paintings and then adding my own colorful brushstrokes to create a new masterpiece.  I just wanted to be clear, so I do not go to plagiarism jail.

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Green Rules

Spring splendor at the Howard Park cupola

Growing up in my hometown of South Holland, Illinois, was a unique experience.

South Holland’s motto is Faith, Family, Future.

Watching over the town, the village’s water tower displays gigantic praying hands along with the slogan “Community of Churches.”

Since it was founded by Dutch Reformed immigrants in 1894, South Holland remained a "dry" municipality; that is, no alcohol is sold anywhere within the village limits. Additionally, the sale or rental of pornographic material is prohibited in South Holland. The village's franchise agreements with cable TV providers restrict on-demand and other adult-oriented programming. 

The founders held rigorously to the tenants of their church, especially the Lord’s commandment to keep the Sabbath Day holy.  My memory of the blue laws is just how quiet everything was on Sunday. Every business and activity, other than worship, was shut down.

My Sundays started with either going to church or pumping gas at my dad’s station in a nearby town.  When I returned, I would play with friends — but only the non-Dutch ones because the Dutch were indoors honoring the Sabbath.

The most frustrating thing for me was that organized sports were never played on Sunday. This was especially painful during baseball season. The baseball season was already too short in the Midwest, so no Sunday ball made every game that much more precious.

One memorable weekend, when I was 13 years old, I had back-to-back games scheduled for Friday night and Saturday morning. I was pumped! My excitement was quickly dampened when my mom reminded me that I was signed up for a weekend retreat with my church youth group.

No worries, I was a clever teen and was going to outsmart my parents. The church was not too far away from the baseball field, and the departure time for the retreat was close to the first pitch of the ballgame. So in my overnight bag for the retreat, I packed my uniform, mitt, and spikes. My mom dropped me off in front of the church, and as her car pulled away, I bolted for the baseball field.

I changed into my uniform in a nearby patch of trees and hurried to the field for warmups. I had it made! I knew I would take some grief at home when my parents found out what I did, but it was worth it to play baseball.

Then, right before the game was to begin, I saw my mom’s car pull into the parking lot. In an unforeseen turn of events, the pastor had given her a call wondering why I was not at church. He must not have been a baseball fan. I tried not to be noticed on the field but with no luck. When I ignored Mom’s order to get in the car, she went to my coach.

My coach called me to the dugout and sat me on the bench. He explained that my commitment to church and God was infinitely more important than a baseball game. Though I was dubious, I respected Coach Majnarich and his influence has stayed with me. 

A few years ago, I searched for him and found his obituary from 2012. Here is a portion of it:

Joseph A. Majnarich, age 94, Army WWII Veteran, Bronze Star recipient, serving with 101st Airborne in the Battle of the Bulge. Joseph attended Alabama University on a basketball and football scholarship. He was a longtime baseball coach in the South Holland area.

Even today, I remember hearing his words about church and God, and I know he was right.

While I am still a little bummed out about not playing in those games 40 years ago, I am incredibly fortunate to have had a true American hero impact my life.

Similar feelings swelled inside me as I walked to Howard Park Tuesday night. I was dressed for softball but had vowed to myself and to my family that I wouldn’t step on the field if we had enough players. Would Julie notice if I tried to blend in somewhere in the outfield? This time I didn’t test my luck. 

Fortunately, the Cougars proved to be heroes on the diamond, winning 18-3 over Boogie Knights and scoring 12 in the first inning!

You can watch the powerful first inning offense on the full game video below.

Here’s a 90 second highlight reel:

• One minute into the game, the opponent had runners on first and second and, of course, we pulled the Wheel Play on the new team to the league.  (Wheel Play explanation in footnotes)  
• Martini pitched his first ꓘ in the first inning.
• Ev hit a moonshot for his third homer of the year.
• A perfect relay play from Ev to Fort to CRads gunned down an advancing runner.
• Joker slowed down and ducked into 2B, and the short center flopped and rolled to CF.
• Li’l Rads had a sweet stretch at 1B for a key out.
• Martini pitched his second ꓘ in the last inning.
• Big Ball Jimmy made a big catch to seal the victory.

 

While we all may have different religious beliefs with varying Sabbath traditions, our Tuesdays have a universally revered observance of playing 16-inch softball. And, thankfully, there are no blue laws in Wilmette because Green rules the night! 

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GAME VIDEO

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SCORES

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STANDINGS

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WHEEL PLAY

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Wheel Play Rule

Our league has an interesting baserunning rule that new teams either do not know or understand.  The Cougars take advantage of the rule to get out of a jam. 

Basically, with runners on first and second, if we make a pick-off play on the runner at first base, he can't advance because the base he is advancing to is occupied.  The runner on second base can't advance because a play was not made on him. 

So the Cougars throw to pick-off the runner at first base and the ball intentionally gets away.  The opposing team runners then sprint around the bases and each advance past the next base.  Because they have advanced to the next base, they are automatically out.  We tag each base out of an abundance of caution and have execute the oldest trick in the history of Howard Park. 

Ceaseless Intensity and Unbridled Passion

Astounding autumn colors at Howard Park waiting for the return of the Cougars.

The first year I vividly remember loving baseball was 1977.  Our family spent many nights at Comiskey Park watching the South Side Hitmen.  Steve Stone, Richie Zisk, Oscar Gamble and my favorite White Sox player, Chet Lemon.  Harry Caray and Jimmy Piersall were our terrific and candid announcers and our owner, Bill Veeck, was a genius hustler and promoter.  A true American legend, he is one of my heroes and I highly recommend the book Veeck as in Wreck. 

 

That was such an incredible summer, and then it fizzled out when the Kansas City Royals won the division. 

 

My favorite non-White Sox players were Reggie Jackson, Pete Rose and George Brett. 

 

Reggie was coined Mr. October in 1977.  I could never be like Reggie because I would never have those skills.  Nobody could…he was one of a kind.  Although I did eat lots of Reggie candy bars.

Charlie Hustle!  Even without his skill level, that’s someone I could mimic with grit and utility.  On summer afternoons when the Cubbies were playing the Reds, I would tune into WGN, listen to Jack Brickhouse, and watch the Hit King.  When our family was in Vegas several years ago, our very first stop was to meet Pete.  His loud and clear message was, “winning is everything.”

 

When our family visited the Baseball Hall of Fame a few years ago, the first plaque I wanted to see was George Brett.  While he was on a division rival, I loved the way he played the game. In fact, the first line of his plaque reads:

 

PLAYED EACH GAME WITH CEASELESS INTENSITY AND UNBRIDLED PASSION.

 

George HOWARD Brett

Exactly. A perfect description on how to play…and to live.

 

Ever since I first stepped on the diamond as a young boy, I have played the game with ceaseless intensity and unbridled passion.

Last summer, 45 years after my first opening day, that style of play caught up with me when my hamstring was ripped from my pelvis during a game.  The injury, surgery, and recovery have been incredibly rough — and I still have several more months until full recovery. 

During the offseason, hooked to an ice machine and hooked on painkillers, I retired several times in my mind. As the season got closer, I told the family, “Maybe I'll play in the second half of the season.” Then, as the grass got greener, I said, “I'll play at the beginning of the season only if needed.” When our opener finally arrived, we would have been a player short without me. I told the family, “I’ll only catch and won’t go full speed.”

Well, that promise lasted about seven minutes. In the bottom of the first inning, I found myself legging out an infield single. Halfway down the first base line, hobbling like Bill Veeck with his wooden leg, I thought, “What am I doing?!?”

Do you know how hard it is to play without ceaseless intensity and unbridled passion?  If you love the game and play the right way, it’s impossible. It’s impossible whether you are 54 years old in the first inning of an opener or 18 years old in the late innings of a blowout. 

So, while I continue to write like a third grader, I can no longer throw my body around like I have since my debut as a third grader.

Retirement is not for me yet, and I’ll still play every so often. However, I’ll try to just play with intensity and passion. I’ll leave the “ceaseless” and “unbridled” adjectives to healthier Cougars. 

In the Cougars 16th season opener, we had plenty of adjectives and a few expletives. 

After getting our butts kicked in the final 3 games of last season, we started the 2023 campaign under the brand new Howard Park lights with electricity.  A recent Wilmette Park District announcement said, “Howard Park is about to experience some major energy savings! The athletic field has been completely upgraded to LED lighting and is ready for the spring season. LED bulbs can use as much as 80% percent less energy than halogen bulbs. We’re proud to say that Howard Park is even more green than before!”   

And just when you thought Howard Park couldn’t get any greener, the original Green team lit it up on Tuesday night. We illuminated the night with some Clincher comets in a 31-5 victory over O.N.G.  

What a reversal from our first 16-inch softball game in 2008 when Team Orange never took their foot off the gas and walloped us 35-1! 

As you can see from the scorebook, the Cougars continually crushed the Clincher.  Hard-to-handle grounders and lasered liners were the keys to victory. 

 

Our man Ev took the season lead for round trippers. He clobbered both a major league  homer and a little league homer. Here’s one of them.

One of our other Cougars homered this week, too.  On Monday, Sam “Goose” Gossard slammed his first college home run!  We sure are looking forward to seeing more of Slammin’ Sam when he returns to the Cougars in June.

After the game, we hustled with ceaseless intensity and unbridled passion to the postgame.

At the postgame, we discussed how the Cougars are the longest tenured team in the league with Chicken Shack retiring and Miller Time leaving.  In a future blog, we will recap our long, historic, and fierce relationship with Chicken Shack.  There’s not too much to recap with Miller Time other than the two times we beat them in 15 years.

 

We closed out the postgame with some Mad Dog 20/20. 

 

It was fitting to quaff some tasty ripple in honor of Fred G. Sanford, who shares my rather gimpy gait.  However, the tables were turned because Charley called me a “Big Dummy” for running so hard while almost giving Julie a heart attack.

Hopefully, playing with age-appropriate intensity and passion, nobody will be going to see Elizabeth any time soon.

Go Cougars!

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GAME VIDEO

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SCHEDULE

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STANDINGS

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