Shirts & Skinned

The subject of youthful attempts at participation in organized sports came up recently. I recounted my exploits in soccer as well as tee ball and 'coach pitch' baseball. My general recollection was of an uneven distribution of enthusiasm for athletics among the boys. I more or less enjoyed it, although I was neither terribly skilled nor very well informed about how either game was played. My ignorance was far less an issue with soccer, it seems to me- how could one fail to grasp the big picture of kicking the ball into the net?

At any rate, when I think of the highlights and low lights of either sport, two stand out in my experience. Coming second was the awards banquet, invariably held at some kids-themed pizza place. We ate pizza, drank soda and sat back to receive various awards. I was virtually guaranteed 'Most Improved Player' year in and year out. For some time I took a measure of pride in this, although I recognized even then the ignominy implicit in it.

It took me a minute to remember the banquet, but the entire reason I started writing was something else which came earlier in the season. I speak of that very special day when several cardboard boxes arrived along with all the equipment to one of our last practices before real games started (although how real any game was in youth baseball is in question). Those boxes, once spotted, were just mobbed with excited boys. Why is that? Of course you'll instantly realize that they contained our uniforms- the first tangible reward to come our way.

Our uniforms, like everyone's, bore the name of our team on the front (the Giants). The back featured our numbers in addition to our sponsor (the local dealer for a high-end automaker). Those uniforms were special because they made us feel special- that is to say that they did so for me. Of course, I might now be less pleased to wear the orange and black- in those days Phoenix and the surrounding area basically belonged to the San Francisco Giants since their Triple-A affiliate was the only pro ball in town. Today they are a hated and treacherous rival. Then, though... those uniform shirts were really something.