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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GAME VIDEO

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