A Summer’s evening at the Neighborhood School Ball Park.

Baseball is summer’s game.  We didn’t have a TV most of my growing up years, but the radio was tuned in to St. Louis Cardinal’s games as the sun went down on summer nights.  The cracking sound of the bat hitting the ball and the crowds going wild, along with the rev-the-crowd organ music drifted through the open windows mingling with the sounds of playmates and I chasing fireflies and whirling hoola-hoops around our waists.  The screen door slammed, as in and out we’d go and beer commercials would ring out between innings.

Tools of the trade.

We don’t do it enough, but now and again, Rocky will get a group of us together to run up the street and play softball at the elementary school.  And each time we say, “We have to do this again soon,” because even my grown children, now, have become nostalgic as they remember the years they played ball all day every day with the neightborhood kids.

Uncle Rocky pitching to Gav-at-bat.  The cheering crowds.  DP up to bat.

When I feel the morning grass I let down my guard

Because love comes from the dirt in my own backyard

Everytime I think I’ve finished being young

I catch myself having fun

My husband, Dave, up to bat.

Recently, on one of those lovely evenings that make you wish summer could last forever, Rock got us all together, the fam and some good friends.  There is just nothing like some bats, a good, broken-in leather glove and bases to run around.  Good times!

Pepler.  Guini and Nonna (me).  Gavin hits it!

But the moment passes as the sun moves on

So I turn myself back to you…

And it’s depressing that I can’t forget the tune the organist played

La  – da da da da da da,  la  – da da da da da da…

 

Everytime I think I’ve finished being young

I catch myself having fun

But the moment passes as the sun moves on

So I turn myself back to you

Is our season over?  No four leaf clover?

The boys of summer:  just coming down “Front Street,” as DP likes to say.  Shirt by Stormie

Hunter and Gavin will climb anything.  Tristan swinging the pipe…as a lefty!

I feel it’s getting colder…

But can you still remember?

April to November

You and I were members

Of the best team in baseball

So we play our games…

Lyrics: Baseball

All of these pictures: by Stormie!