08/03/2026
One of my fondest childhood memories, was the day my dad took me out of school to go watch my first pro baseball game. It was thrilling. I will never forget walking through the dark, stadium tunnels and up into the stands. I stopped breathing for a moment when the summer blue sky became visible and I saw the field. I had never seen anything so green. It was as though, God created a brand new emerald green reserved only for baseball. I might have cried a little. But I quickly recovered, after all this was baseball.
I loved baseball and would watch the games with my parents every night possible. I wanted to play baseball but, back then, in the late 1960s, there was no little league for girls. Only boys played hardball. But, I was good enough. I could have gone up against any of them. One time the coach lamented to my father about how much he wished he could play me. I was a heckofa second baseman.
So I played softball. It was great fun. But no one cared, not really. We played our little games and went for ice cream. But there were no sponsors, no pictures in the local newspaper. We were proud though. We played hard, won hard and sometimes lost even harder. Yes, there is crying in softball.
Yesterday, the Women’s Professional Baseball League took the field for the first time in 70 years (women playing ball filled a void left by war). This makes me so happy. The little girl standing on the other side of the fence and only dreaming, got to see women being recognized for the amazing, talented athletes they truly are. Bravo!!! Enjoy the game, women.
Wow, imagine that, women playing pro ball.