Baseball memories in the year it disappeared

April 16, 2020

By Scott Langdon, family and friends

Canadian Baseball Network

What do you miss about baseball?

I asked some family and friends – an extended baseball family if you will - for their answers to the question. They read like a Bob Elliott, Thomas Boswell or Roger Angell book on the game. Well…close.

Some have been edited for length but each one is a worthy story by itself.  Baseball appears to mean different things to different people. For some, it’s a source of family fun and memories.

Enjoy.

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“Baseball is so much more than the game, itself. To me, baseball is a way of life. I look forward to planning our annual baseball trip with my former next-door neighbour and our two sons. This will be our 27th consecutive year of visiting minor league ballparks across Canada and the U.S.A. So, I am still waiting for Spring to officially start. To see the action and the reaction of the pitch, to smell the green grass of the diamond, to hear the crack of the bat, to feel the energy of the crowd and enjoy the taste of a good old ballpark hot dog and beer. Baseball satisfies all my senses. How I long for its return.” Greg Service, 70, Toronto.

“I don’t really miss the game. I miss going to a Jays’ game with my baseball fanatic partner. I miss waving to the people in the stands, who like us, having been coming to the games since 1977. I miss eating popcorn and trying not to have it fall on the floor all around us. I miss watching the 50/50 jackpot continue to go up and wondering why my ticket is never the one that gets called. I miss watching the players warm up. I miss the opening ceremonies, especially when someone deserving gets to throw the first pitch. And last, but not least, I miss listening to Wilner on the drive home.” Jean Veitel, 69, Toronto, partner to Greg Service.

“…Finally, and maybe most of all, I miss looking out my condo window and seeing the lights on in the evening at the local park and imagining what a great game is being played by a great group of young people. You don’t even have to walk over. Your imagination gives you the best seat in the park and reminds of cool Spring evenings and hot summer weekends when my sons played at ballparks across southern Ontario and where my grandkids play now.” Jim Cade, 70, Toronto.

“I mostly miss those days when our kids were young and taking them to minor league games. Watching them run around trying to catch foul balls, eating junk and just relaxing at those intimate ball parks. And even the Jays of old, seeing it all through our children’s eyes…the magic of it all. Cathie Cade, 71, married to Jim.

“…This is easy. I miss playing catch with my kids. We are fortunate to have a yard and a basketball hoop, but we can’t throw. We can’t stretch out the arms. I can’t throw pop-ups in the park, can’t crouch and flash the sign for the curveball that they don’t know how to throw. We can’t hit. I can’t pitch tennis balls to them and watch them carom off a thick tree trunk or the roof of the play structure. I can’t listen to them explain to me that the ghost runner is on third, not second. I can’t time my run from shallow left field to home plate so I arrive a fraction of a second late as they slide in the grass and score. I don’t even get to hear them whine for one more swing before dinner. I miss that, too. I miss all of it.” Matt Cade, 41, son of Jim and Cathie.

“I miss the opportunity to learn more of the beautiful subtleties of the game. The way a pitcher can hold a team down with amazing pitching, or vice versa, a guy steps up, bases loaded and blasts a home run! Just the ebb and flow of the game unfolding live in front of me. I have been managing to get a few “innings” in most days with son, Elijah, which helps.” Sam Reid, 38, son-in-law of Jim and Cathie Cade, and a recent arrival in Canada from New Zealand.

“To me, baseball is about redemption. It gives each player who ever put on a glove, or stepped up to the plate with a bat in his hands, a chance to make up for past mistakes…to turn that missed fly ball into a diving catch or hitting a 3 and 2 pitch up the middle for a game-winning hit. And isn’t that we would all like out of life? A chance to correct our wrongs, to recapture bad memories and turn them into glorious victories…to feel like we have gotten better, taken life up a notch or two, to have grown. Why do I miss baseball? Because I need redemption from my mistakes. We all do. Baseball offers that opportunity.” Steve Getchell, 51, Parrish, Florida.

“It’s the conversations. You do not realize how much you talk about the Jays. Who is doing well and who is not? Who wins? Who loses? Trades, coaching…all part of the daily conversations.” Lori Willaert, 59, Toronto, niece of the author.

“I miss watching the games and talking about the games with others. But what I really miss is watching all the young, new ones coming up and watching how they do. I like to see how the new kids are starting off. You are excited for them.” Lynn Finnie, 79, Toronto, friend of Lori Willaert.

“I miss the crack of the bat, expensive hot dogs and minor league ballpark fare. Dusty baseball fields and watching little league. Standing with the crowd and singing O Canada. The first pitch…Yvonne Thompson, 61, Jays’ fan in Chicago and Toronto, neighbour to many.

“I miss everything about baseball, especially watching the Jays. Following stats and certain players. I miss watching the games with my Mom. Living in New York, we don’t usually get the Blue Jays’ games on TV so she bought a MLB TV subscription so we watch the games on the computer. I follow the Jays’ Instagram, but right now it’s just highlights from other years. It’s not the same this year. I miss cheering on my favourite players and celebrating a win. I’m hoping that by summer the season will have started because I’m looking forward to coming to Toronto to watch a game.” Onnah Plummer, 13, New York City, friend to Yvonne Thompson.

“The one thing I miss is my grandson, Aaron’s baseball games and even practices. Seeing the kids enjoy the game, play with their friends and watching them develop brings great pleasure to me. The social atmosphere surrounding the game at a little league park cannot compare to MLB and is in stark contrast to the self-serving professional sports model we have encouraged. Enough said or I will say too much.” Paul Collings, 73, Toronto.

And, finally, this…a reminder of the timelessness of baseball in the year it disappeared.

“More than the first robin, more than the first daffodil, more than the first green buds on the trees, baseball marks the coming of spring and the promise of summer. From late March through the dog days of summer and on to the World Series, heralding the coming of winter, it’s the only sport with a season confined to a calendar year. Other major sports – hockey, basketball, football – span not just seasons but years and so don’t hold the same sense of time. Even within the season, the rhythm of almost-daily games provides a structure built on three- or four-game series, home and away, that, like a metronome, sets the pace of life. Of course, I miss the excitement of the games, the comradeship of the ballpark, the ebb and flow of my home team’s fortunes, but mostly I miss the timely sense of annual renewal that each season brings. Jim Cowan, 72, the author’s first boss and the person who taught him to write. In return, the author helped him appreciate baseball even more. Like the best baseball trades…a win for both sides.

Remembering baseball has stirred some heartening feelings in an otherwise disheartening time.

Join in. What do you miss about baseball? Send your comments to canadianbaseballnetwork.com