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Missing how the game was played

I miss a lot: I miss the way things used to be and the people who made those times the way they were.

I could go on about things I miss — but so could you. There’s been a whole heap of changes hasn’t there? But though I miss the old places and old times more and more, I miss many of the people less. As I have aged, some have become closer.

Allow me to explain.

My father and I were close but it was definitely a father and son relationship. We weren’t buddies really. When he passed away there was a distance of 34 years between us. But now we’re the same age.

I understand my Father better now. I can empathize with him; appreciate the difficulties he faced. I comprehend more clearly why certain things gave him pleasure and other things didn’t. Even though he’s been gone for many years I have come to know him better.

Understanding my Father has allowed for an enhanced association, a possibility I hadn’t realized existed. I can engage in a one-sided conversation that yields a form of bilateral substance, one that combines a smile born of familiarity with an awareness forged by time.

So too with my Mother and to a lesser degree with others I have known and loved.

But there are things I miss I don’t see anymore in any form. Here are a couple:

1. Kids playing in the street. I miss that. You just don’t see it anymore.

It used to be drivers weren’t so hurried. When a motorist encountered a ball game in the middle of the street and a play was in progress, he or she would stop until the play was completed. They would wait until the grounder was fielded, the throw made, the base gained, or not.

Only then would the driver, after sounding a friendly beep, slowly move on through the players’ waves and smiles and the barking of their dogs.

Streets were multiple use areas then. People of all ages would meet in the middle of the street to play, exchange recipes, discuss politics, get the news. The old expression, “Heard it on the street” meant just that.

These days streets are for cars only. Curbs are hazards for anyone going out for a pass or fielding a grounder and the traffic moves too fast — no one stops. Today’s drivers are so insular it wouldn’t register if a grand slam had been hit or bases were being gained on fielding errors.

The fans? They’re over on one side or the other; no longer coming together in the middle of the street.

Back then, a call made by the kid who was umpiring because his leg was in a cast was final. Now, every call is contested — from both sides of the street.

The ump is “so-called” and sports writers are accused of reporting fallacious box scores. Being in the, “Call ’em like you see ’em” business, is rough. It’s a whole new ball game.

The entire street drainage system is a problem. With only few exceptions it’s poorly designed for good puddle formation and child retention. Much that has drained away should have been retained. It shows with every storm.

Between the problematical streets and the shallowness of today’s puddles, engineers have much to answer for.

2. Recess. There’s no adult recess. No regular time or place for people to come out of themselves and play together. We need a community recess. We could play marbles.

We could hold those recesses in the streets if the engineers would fix them.

Doug Pugh’s Vignettes run bi-weekly on Tuesdays. He can be reached via email at pughda@gmail.com.

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