Field of Dreamers

As Thursday wound down, I lingered in the clubhouse savoring our 4-1 record and our championship chase with some of my teammates.  We showered, sipped on a beer and talked about our two wins and our great hits and plays.  Here we were, doctors, real estate developers, salesmen and business executives, transplanted far from our real lives into the world of big time baseball.  A world many of us began dreaming about decades earlier.  At that time, we weren’t quite good enough, or lost focus, or got hurt, or all of the above.  This week we finally, officially gained entry into a version of that world.  We knew we weren’t competing against the “best”, but that didn’t matter.  We were competing against those who held the deepest interest and fascination with baseball, and we did it with the “style” and accommodations of the big leaguers, and in the midst of ex-big leaguers to add to the experience.

I waited until most campers cleared out of the trainers’ room, then I hobbled in.  “How ya feelin’, Vinnie?”  asked Jimmy with his ever-present smile and all around great disposition. 

“I’m hurtin’ a little Jimmy. I pitched five innings today because I couldn’t run well enough to play third base,” I said. 

“Sit down, we’ll fix you up,” Jimmy claimed as he immediately tended to my right shoulder...one of the few parts of my body that didn’t hurt.  I let him continue, remembering there was a ritualistic icing down of the right shoulder, with an ice pack held in place by an ace bandage that wrapped across the chest.  I wanted to be part of this rite of passage into the pitching fraternity.  It felt soothing, but it also looked good and sent a message to the other campers that 1) I pitched and; 2) I might be back on the mound tomorrow.  When you add this to the ice packs on my thighs and knee, I looked like a guy who earned his pay, or more accurately, got his money’s worth.  A couple of people asked, “Did you pitch today?” 

My standard response was “Yeah, I went five innings, 4 hits, no walks, no earned runs.”  And I said it all so matter-of-factly.

I was physically tired and hurting, but in a strange way I was feeling content and excited.  I was the beneficiary of those chemicals your body secretes when you feel a real sense of accomplishment.  It’s a kind of personal satisfaction euphoria.  I decided to wait until the following day to worry about whether or not I could play in the field.  I was not optimistic because my legs were feeling worse.  But maybe I could have a big day at bat, or even pitch a few innings again.  Now that I had made it through Thursday, I was willing to take the rest of the week as it came.