I was watching the movie Sandlot today and it reminded me, vividly, of my childhood and love for the game of baseball. I don’t think anyone is more than a moment away from their fondest childhood memories. I can remember the kids I played with, the places we played, the “No Hardball” sign hanging from the backstop and one particular home run I hit one summer day on 6th Street in LaSalle, Illinois.
Some kids came and went, playing for a summer. The mainstays were myself, Jim Stevens, and Tom Messino. There were many others that came and went: J.J. Carreon, Hijinio Carreon, Ritchie Stachowiak, Jeremiah Buffo, Steve Chamberlain, Jared Siekierka, Jeremy"Pewee" Pondinas, Juan Sanchez, Matt Franklin, Joe Watts, Pattelli Brothers, Steve Rossman, Brian Sexton, and Greg "Gibby" Gibson. We’d play football until the snow melted each spring, but our first love and all we looked forward to was baseball season.
We started at Jackson Elementary School on the paved blacktop with faded bases for kickball painted in the southwest corner of the playground. As most Sandlot games have, we had specific rules to make the game go smoothly. Ghost Runners (if we got a hit, we were most likely the on deck hitter as well, so we ran until we came to bat again that inning), Pitcher’s Hand (because we didn’t have a 1st baseman, a throw from the outfield or shortstop went to the pitcher instead. Many arguments were made because of the distance and difficulty of making that call), and anything hit right of centerfield was an automatic out. I can remember ruining several pairs of jeans by sliding into a painted base on blacktop, tearing holes into my clothes.
We used tennis balls almost exclusively. Hard balls were expensive and hard to keep from getting beat up on such a hard surface. Plus, tennis balls exploded off the bat and the pitcher could make the ball do some crazy things. We did have a rule that stood until we were about 12 years old, pitchers had to throw the ball straight in. No curveballs, no knuckleballs, and no fastballs. We enjoyed the hitting part and the running the bases the most, so a 1-0 game in a Sandlot game wasn’t quite functional or sufficient. I think we played at the Jackson Elementary setting until we were about nine years old.
At nine, we started to eyeball the high school girl’s softball field across the street. It was about 150 ft by 150ft of the greenest grass we’d laid our eyes on at that age. We almost felt like we were getting away with something each day we went out there. You could slide and only come away with grass stains, such a rite of passage! We appropriately called it “Green Field.” Our parents knew it as such and I’m sure on hundreds of occasions that the last sentence they heard as we threw on our shoes and ran out of the house with our gloves was, “I’m going down to Green Field, be back when the street lights come on!!”
On more than one occasion, a police cruiser would roll by and we’d have our hearts in our throats! It clearly stated on an aluminum sign posted on the chain-link backstop “NO HARDBALL!” Of course, we were using tennis balls, but how were the “authorities” to know this!??
Having got away with playing there for about a year or so, we started to get brave. We incorporated real baseballs as we started our Little League Baseball careers. I thought I was that much closer to being Ryne Sandberg of the Chicago Cubs if I were playing with a real leather hardball! I don’t remember worrying as much about getting in trouble by the cops as we got closer to 12 years old, but we were starting to hit the balls farther and harder. It would’ve been justified to worry.
I remember hitting a homerun one summer day. Where left field ended, several home’s backyards started. I hit one long and hard and just KNEW it was going to break something. We waited, not moving, listening…”CRASH!!” A window had broken in the back of the last house down the left field line. I can remember how scared I was to knock on that door. I was still catching my breath from running several blocks in fear and deciding what to do. It was the right thing to do, I walked up and knocked. An older woman answered the door with a twinkle in her eye. I apologized for breaking her window and explained what happened. She was a big Cubs fan and said, “You should play for the Cubs, they could use it!” All of my fear left quickly and my chest swelled up with pride and a child’s illusions of grandeur.
Every kid should have to walk up and knock on that door. Accepting responsibility for hitting that ball through her window was rewarding to this day. In retrospect, I’m sure she’d been watching us play out there for years. We weren’t troublemakers and it might’ve reminded her of her childhood. It was a little slice of Americana; Children playing baseball every summer day in a small town in the Midwest.
I asked an old buddy of mine, Jim Stevens, to write an email about Green Field, here it is:
The Green Field
“Well, I guess you could say this is where it all began. After school in April playing baseball until the street light came on or until we couldn't see the ball. When school was out for summer, it was from sun up to sun down EVERYDAY.... No joke. Knowing ALL the stats, lineups, and standings for every team (26 at the time w/2 divisions in the NL & AL). We played for the love of the game. Sometimes we played 3-on-3 or 5-on-5 or more. Mostly neighborhood kids: Tommy Messino, J.J. Carreon, Hijinio Carreon, Ritchie Stachowiak, Jeremiah Buffo, Steve Chamberlain, Jared Siekierka, Jeremy"Pewee" Pondinas, Juan Sanchez, Matt Franklin, Joe Watts, Pattelli Brothers, Steve Rossman, Brian Sexton, and Greg "Gibby" Gibson. We learned the fundamentals of the game. Discussing the Manager strategies in game time situations. Eat, Sleep, and Play Baseball, sometimes we wouldn't even eat because all we cared about was playing ball. All good things have to come to an end so in 7th and 8th grades when we started breaking windows and hit balls on roofs of homes, we had to stop playing there. The home owners wouldn't get angry or anything. All they wanted to know was, who hit that one? Sign that kid up for the Cubs. Another good thing, if we didn't make it home to eat or if it got dark, our parents always knew where to find us. Playing baseball at The Green Field.” Jim Stevens
Thanks Jimmy!
To everyone out there, please send me your Sandlot Stories! Hope to hear from you soon!