My Time In Baseball
I spent some time in the park, glorying in the days of summer, those never-to-be-forgotten days when I held the unique position of bat boy for a local merchants’ league. These many years later, I can’t recall its name, but the word “Lordship,” for the little village where I lived, was in it. “Lordship Merchants,” perhaps.
Most likely, the players picked me because I was somewhat of an outsider, a real introvert whose favorite sport was reading books under a tree. “Let’s include Tom and give him something to do,” seemed to be the general feeling, as I took it. So I ended up as the team’s batboy.
But not for long. I don’t know how far into the season I lasted, but it seems I never made it for any length of time. However you don’t make it as a batboy, that’s how I didn’t make it. I just sat there on the sidelines, picking up bats, not making any noise, nor cheering on the batters or fielders. Just sitting and watching.
Participant sports were not made for people such as I. To my mind, the batboy just hung out and picked up bats, stray balls and stray items that might be in the way. But cheering and waving my arms? That’s too demonstrative. If a bridge fell in and I had to warn people, that would be different. So I got canned and went back to the books.