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      At The Ballpark
      by
      Michael Basham
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      

                              
      One evening, my Son and I had gone to the 
      Ball Park to see a Major League team play. We 
      always left our home about 3 p.m, for a 7 
      p.m. game. We would get there early and eat 
      our meal early, as well. We didn't want to 
      miss any of the pre-game warmups. We would 
      watch batting practice and the Pitchers and 
      fielders pre-game practice. I was really glad 
      we had come to this game; it was the first 
      for us this season. It was nearing the end of 
      the season and we had not been able to go. I 
      was anticipating a possible stray ball for my 
      son to catch. We watched as hitter after 
      hitter came up during batting practice. He 
      was never close enough to grab one of the 
      balls.
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
                              
      The seats were hard to jump over and to 
      get to the ball was impossible. He was just 
      six years old. I tried to help, but there 
      were a lot of fans there with the same idea. 
      We sat and waited patiently, then batting 
      practice ended. The pitchers were still 
      warming up with each other. I thought, maybe 
      one of them will toss him a ball. The people 
      would yell at them as if they weren't even 
      human sometimes. I thought of how hard it 
      must be for them to ignore the insults. We 
      sat quietly watching and we talked about 
      pitching in general. My son had many 
      questions about Baseball. When the pitchers, 
      were preparing to leave the field and join 
      the team, one walked over our way. I 
      recognized him, immediately. He tossed a ball 
      over the fence to my son. He said, "I have 
      been saving this for you." 
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
                              
      My son was ecstatic, I was too, for this 
      pitcher, before coming to this team, had won 
      a World Series. When he walked away, my son 
      was tapped on the shoulder by an older man 
      who had sat behind us. He said, "I'd like for 
      you to have this ball, you see, I appreciate 
      seeing boys at the ballpark with their dads. 
      That Ball is from
      when my son stood on that very mound and 
      pitched a game, dedicated to his
      dad." He said, "I have more, but this one has 
      been kept for a special occasion, like 
      today." 
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
                              
      I don't know which one of those balls was 
      more important. I do know each one was given 
      from the Heart. Two men stood tall in my eyes 
      that night and since, the founders of a 
      memory of a dad and his son.
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      

      
      
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