Baseball, And What Not....

The Fairfield Expos youth baseball organization poured money and hard work into turning the town's Laurel Creek Park into their home field.

The organization constructed batting cages -- one down each foul line and restored the dugouts. There were two tiny bleachers, now there is a high-rise seating area behind home plate. The seats have backs, just like the seats at a big league ball park.

Most interestingly, the organization installed all-purpose turf in the infield. The number of first-rate youth baseball facilities in the area with grass or dirt infields is dwindling to the point it's apparent that the cost of all-purpose turf is offset by the ease of maintenance and its availability even after some wet weather.

I stopped in to see the ball park and caught an inning of men's league baseball. The Solano Mud Cats were playing a team from the Bay Area. The Mud Cats featured a couple of former minor leaguers, one was a catcher who bounced around pro ball for years because he remains a sterling defender. It occurred to me that my hometown Humboldt Crabs always open their summer collegiate season against the Fairfield Indians. The Indians just added a young player who was selected in the first five rounds of the Major League Baseball draft, then struggled in the low minors for years. But, the Indians are just an average men's league baseball team, not even as good as Solano County's other men's league team -- the Mud Cats.

It would serve the Crabs college talent and their fans if the Mud Cats and Indians threw together the best 18 players (and a boat load of pitchers) to go play the Crabs in June. It would be great baseball and, potentially, the visiting team might even win a game.

The Sunday afternoon game I watched drew a pretty good crowd for a men's league game in Fairfield. There were probably, oh, 30 or 35 fans.

My son and I noted players who were standouts in Solano County, including the kid who's actually returning to play in an independent minor league team today.

I noted that one former college star looked like he'd put on 40 pounds. My daughter asked, "How can you tell if they're out of shape?"

"If they're built close to the way I'm built," I said, "they're out of shape. Baseball players don't usually have love handles or pot bellies."

"We Heard You Died"

So, I'm driving back from the store with my youngest son and get a telephone call from work.

"Ted? This is Andy. Hi!"

Yeah. Hi. OK. What? I'm sick. I called in sick. Flu or something that, alas, doesn't take away the need to do fatherly duties. (Dads can't call in sick.)

"Yeah...Marty just got a call ... um...from the Times-Standard up in Eureka...and..."

What? Gee whiz? I know the guys I work with are incredibly thoughtful, but I don't think I need to hear about every communication between them and my old newspaper.

"...and, um, the sports editor said you were in a car accident..."

Say what? No.

"I what? No. I'm driving home right now. That's weird."

Weird didn't accurately describe how it felt to hear a rumor that I'd been in a car wreck, perhaps 350 miles away in my old hometown.

"...actually...um..."

Andy pauses when he's saying something he's uncomfortable saying. Nice guys are like that. They know they're going to say something potentially upsetting so ... they ... hesitate. (Thus, I tend to blurt things out and think later.)

"...actually, they said you'd passed away."

The Times-Standard guy called the Napa Valley Register guy to ask if I'd died.

Oh. OK. Whew! I thought it was something important.

"He called to see if I'D DIED!?!?!?! That's insane. I'm alive, unless something happened I don't know about. My son's in the back seat of the car and he's in trouble if I'm dead..."

I laughed it off because my parents' deaths skewed my view of death. I'm a little afraid of dying, like lots of people. I know it makes people left behind really sad, so ... sure ... I'd say the thought of death is unpleasant. I have, however, come to grips with the fact I'm going to die and that the world will go on...my family and friends will get over my death and, hopefully, prosper.

Hearing word of my own demise didn't send a chill down my spine or anything.

I am on the case now, though, trying to figure out how the story unfolded. I know there are folks in my home area who likely relish the notion of my passing. But, the story apparently started in Fairfield...and, really...nobody cares enough about me one way or the other there to start a rumor. Word is that it could be a joke...

Now, I'll acknowedge, hearing I'd died did not make me laugh.