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#BaseballClassic

  • Life In the Time of Corona (First in an unlimited series)

    Life In the Time of Corona--First in an unlimited series
    Baseball, where are ye?
    by Chuck Cascio
    chuckwrites@yahoo.com
     
    Baseball, where are ye?
     
    To me, you have always represented the start of the new year—
     
    the presence of spring and time spent outdoors amid flowering trees and watching kids take on the challenge of the bat and ball;
     
    the promise of summer ahead, replete with the gentle call of family, cookouts, beaches, and surf;
     
    the ultimate beauty of fall with a series of games that defy analysis, challenge athleticism, and truly identify the sport's heroes;
     
    Come back, baseball! 
     
    Soon! 
     
    You are missed!

    IMG 6772

     

    copyright text and photo: Chuck Cascio, all rights reserved.

     
  • Life In the Time of Corona (Second in an unlimited series)

    Life In the Time of Corona (Second in an unlimited series)

    My friend and former colleague John Scott, an outstanding teacher and baseball coach, wrote the following, expressing his own affection for our National Pastime. I am proud to publish it with his permission.

     

    Diamond Days
    by
    John Scott

    Diamond Days....

    Sights and sounds of days on the field…

    The aroma of the fresh cut field. The soft breeze kicks up the dust. 

    The smell of leather. The crack of the bat. 

    Cheers. Chatter. All of that. 

    You take the mound. He digs in at home. The catcher crouches, goes through his signs.

    You tip your hat, re-grip the ball, begin your wind-up and then let loose the mighty pitch.

    A curve spins along the way.

    wyatt_pitching.jpeg

     

    The batter peers, picks up the seams as the ball draws near.

    He sets his eyes, adjusts his stance, begins his swing...

    He’s got a chance!

    The swing is mighty. The crowd goes quiet as the ball meets the bat in a tremendous crack! 

    They all look up, race toward the ball. The left fielder sprints, lays out but can’t quite reach the ball. 

    The ump cries out, “FOUL BALL!” 

    It’s just one pitch, and there are many more.

    But to the boys it is so much more. 

    Each pitch, each swing, each throw and catch is set in their memory from the field that day. 

    There is something magical and therapeutic about playing—and watching—our  National Pastime! 

     

    About John Scott: John played baseball from Little League, Babe Ruth League, American Legion, and high school through college and then coached baseball for 19 years at three different high schools in Fairfax County, VA.

    Story copyright: John Scott, all rights reserved.

    Photo copyright: Chuck Cascio, all rights reserved.

     

     

     

  • World Series Champs with a Lesson Beyond Baseball

    WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS WITH A LESSON BEYOND BASEBALL

    By

    Chuck Cascio

    chuckwrites@yahoo.com

          We were doing Baby Shark!

         We were slapping high fives with strangers!

         We were cheering like children while surrounded by thousands of people our age and, yes, small packs of gleeful kids!

          My wife and I and two dear friends were part of the massive crowd at Nats Park in Washington, DC, watching on a giant TV screen that rainy night of October 30 as the Washington Nationals baseball team—who persisted throughout a difficult regular season with the motto “Stay In the Fight!”—brought the first World Series championship to Washington since 1924. And amid the cheering and hugging, I was taken by the realization that something more significant than a World Series victory was happening. 

         

    IMG_0139.jpg

    Nats Park wasted no time saluting the champions!

          I have always been enthralled with the uniqueness of baseball. And while all sports at virtually all levels from youth through pros have the potential to deliver responses from fans that border on pandemonium, the seventh game of the World Series is special. It marks the culmination of the longest season in all of sports, a sport that has countless nuances to analyze and interactions that require instant response from players, such as:

         >>>judging in a split second where that 95 miles per hour pitch is headed from just 60 feet, six inches away;    

         >>>calculating at the literal crack of a bat where a ball that is launched high into the sky, sunlight, or stadium lights will land; 

         >>>determining while running full speed if you should turn the corner and risk going to the next base or play it safe and stay where you are. 

         Baseball players' athleticism may stay dormant for innings and hours at a time and then, in one chaotic moment, they may find themselves in a spontaneous burst of reaction, speed, strength, and skill that determines the outcome of a game.

         As the Nats expressed their unlimited youthful glee (we watched on the giant screen as they danced, embraced, jumped joyfully, and laughed at their own Baby Shark impersonations) and the crowd reacted in kind, it was apparent that this was a period of pure joy in a city dominated by politics, a city whose events are too often wedded to talking points, a city whose beauty and history sometimes need an innocent event to reveal its charms, charms reflected in the core of its populace.

         I have no idea—nor do I care—about the political preferences of the strangers whose hands I was slapping, whose embraces I shared. We were all of the same mind in those moments. And something in the row in front of ours made a particularly strong impact on me that night:

         In that row, a group of 10 or so men and women who appeared to be in their late teens reacted with uninhibited, spontaneous, genuine exuberance. Hardcore baseball fans? Maybe; I don’t know, but I saw them experiencing feelings they will remember forever, something that I want more of for them...for my own family...for my friends...for everyone whether it comes from an athletic achievement, a personal accomplishment, or a simple moment in time that we recognize as unique. 

         Appreciation and happiness can surprise us at any time and, of course, baseball is not the only thing that can stimulate those responses. But a professional baseball team did it in Washington, DC, on that night, and my guess is that even those World Champion Washington Nationals players do not fully realize the lasting impact they made on the people of a city. 

         Thanks, Nats. 

         Thanks, baseball. 

         Thanks, fans. 

         Thanks, Baby Shark!

    Copyright Chuck Cascio; all rights reserved.