There were a group of kids that ranged in age from 8 to 11 (approx) that came to watch a game of ours and the line of kids stretched along the third base fence was long and deep. A lot of the kids brought baseballs and wanted some of our guys to autograph them.
I really got a kick out of watching our guys sign baseballs as the little kids looked up to them, hoping someday they’ll be on a field like this.
How natural, how great this game is, how wonderful the experience for everyone. What could possibly go wrong with such a decent, innocent gesture…WRONG!!!
Anybody that asked that question didn’t know this group of guys very well.
Mixed in with the kids was a few girls from a private women’s college just up the road. And… as luck would have it … as the baseballs were being passed back and forth … one of the little tykes got a ball signed…
…call me…after ten …dorm#-- tel# 123-4567… you hunk…XOXOXO
Just before the National Anthem a couple of cops escorted a kid, a woman and a man to the left entrance of our dugout and stood there. The lady, with both hands on the kids shoulders, said … “now you point out to this nice officer that dreadful man that gave you that disgusting baseball!”
After all the dust settled, things got back to normal (for us anyway) and the kids father thought it was pretty funny – mom was not amused.
As we stood on the baseline, hats in hand listening to the National Anthem … a lowly voice sounded from the end of our line… “hey… anybody know what happened to that ball?”