The gym shoes are a reminder from pleasant memories in the past. As a blanket of snow covers our landscape it's hard to believe that there is anything like baseball, but there is.
The corner lot was paradise. Baseball was a passion. With nothing better to do with our spare time we gathered with friends and had fun.
There was nothing fancy about it. In blue jeans, sport shirt, and gym shoes, we played baseball. We improvised with cardboard bases, splintered bats, and tattered baseballs in the park.
Following a baseball game we hustled over to Mike's Hot Dogs. Three blocks from Lincoln School we chained our bikes around some lamp post. Mike's had the best hot dogs in town. During lunch or after school it was our favorite hangout.
Nestled between a bun a hot dog got smuggled with all the goodies–ketchup, mustard, relish, onions, and coleslaw. Coke and French Fries topped the lists. Talking with a mouth full was a big challenge.
But it was winter and back to the reality of cold weather and snow. There was no way we could play baseball right now. Summer was a long way off, but there still was hope.
The ball traveled across the big room before making a cracking sound inside a baseball glove. Picking it out of a cozy spot which angered the ball, some nasty fingers returned the celebrity across the room in the opposite direction. Back and forth the ball went playing catch in the big school gym.
Like a row of dominos following a pattern, a dozen boys soon joined. No body wanted to be left out. Who says baseball is a summer sport? We must learn to improvise and satisfy our baseball appetite.
Meanwhile, I satisfy my baseball appetite with stories from my newsletter. Join us and make your life so much brighter. https://aw1283c2.aweb.page/cornerlotsbaseball
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