A well pumped-up red rubber ball

[bigtree]

...there used to be a mean game of dodgeball in my elementary school days, every afternoon at the end of classes.

We used a well pumped-up red rubber ball that would maim and otherwise injure the hapless lessers who dared join in the game. I was, in fact, that very hapless lesser for almost every bout of that punishing competition which just seemed to spontaneously evolve one Spring into the greatest thing ever.

Two teams would spread out on the court, dangerously close and opposite each other, and the goal was to avoid being struck by the glowering maniac with the ball, who would invariably aim for your shorted legs to keep you from catching the ball which would eject them and cause the entire team on the other side to retreat in either a futile panic of getting hit and ejected, or an anticipatory crouch, ready to catch a halfhearted throw from someone as inept but determined as myself.

There was that tall and lanky Cahill girl in the cutoffs and the sleeves of her t-shirt rolled up for effect who could absolutely make you cry from the sting of that red-rubber ball delivered like lightening to any part of your body she would aim for with a side-armed throw and a toothy grin as you attempted to turn and run.

That's what I remember about the smell of the chill Spring air that's wafting through my door this evening. Running through the neighborhood afterward, late for home, through the field and up the hill...

Thing is, I really, really want a red-rubber ball. It's just 8 o'clock or so, and I could go buy one right now, but I really have no use at all for a red-rubber ball these days.

There was a time, though, when it was everything.

[Shermann]

1. Dodgeball to the FACE

What's not to love about that?

[bigtree]

2. ahhh!

...it STINGS!!

And stars..

[Redleg]

3. Spring reminds me of baseball

Getting the old glove ready by cleaning it with saddle soap. Making sure last year's cleats still fit. Throwing the ball in the backyard with my dad. Going to that first practice with a spring in my step. Stepping on the mound for the first time in months and smoothing it out in front of the rubber. Ahhh. Memories of glory.

It snowed here yesterday and I am up to my ears with work. Back to the present.

[bigtree]

4. first day of junior high school gym

...brought my NEW glove to school for the announced game.

Was not allowed to participate at all. Too small, I guess. Never played organized sports again after that day, never hit another ball with a bat.

I do remember watching baseball, though. A little far back, but the hometeam was the Senators. Used to watch the game on tv with my Granddad, a short, strong man, dark as night, with a hearing aid for his deafness that happened when he worked in the glass factory after WWI. He'd turn it down when my mom would lecture him about something or another, and whenever he fell asleep in his red reclining chair with the red duct tape covering the cracks while he watched the baseball game turned up way loud. He'd wake up every now and then to spit his tobacco in his brown ceramic spittoon and record the score on the margin of his TV guide.

Spring.

[Redleg]

5. This sounds like a beautiful memory.

It reads like poetry.