It’s August. Time for the lights to burn bright every night on Carpy Field. Time for Softball!

It wasn’t that long ago the town had some 600 people signed up for Rec League softball. Ten per cent of our population.

Teams played continuously--five nights a week. From 6 until 10 pm Carpy field was ablaze.

Some years ago the Goobs and I played. We were on a co-ed team, together, and I played on two others—-one for the REALLY old and one for the only slightly infirm.

Back in the day, there might be two games going at once. The women’s team, the Rockettes, on the North field, while the Men’s Senior League would be swingin’ and slidin’ on the South diamond.

It was Louis Moore’s dad who forced the switch over to “Lob Ball.” Though he was in his 50’s no one could hit his windmill pitches so the town had to change the game from “fast pitch” to “slow.”.

Eventually, civilization encroached upon the world of softball. In the late 80’s a wooden “Playground Structure” was built on the Grammar school down the left foul line.

The metal swings which were replaced by the structure, were re-located (don’t ask why) further down towards home plate, so the Northern Field was rendered inoperable.

The new Boys and Girls Club encroaches in right field=2 0of the Southern Diamond, but taking a page out of Fenway Park, they’ve figured out a “Green Monster” formula for balls hit up against the wall, or on the roof. No problem.

I’m not sure the exact year, but some time after 9/11, they suspended City league play to re-grade and re-sod Carpy Field.

A brand new “Back Stop” was built with a curved top to prevent foul balls from going into the neighbors’ yards on Tainter Street.

Neighbors were spared errant balls, and those foolish enough to park their cars on the street no longer had to use a toilet plunger to remove dents from their hoods after foul pop ups registered their tell tale “thuds.” However, more than one batter, catcher or ump has been drilled by a “foul tip” which caroms off top of the Back Stop. Those caroms are nasty. Once again, the law of unintended consequences—but I digress.

Playgrounds for children are nice—but playgrounds for adults—invaluable. One shouldn’t have to choose between swing sets for kids and swinging batter boxes for grown-ups.

Since the elementary school is now half the size it was in my day (grades one through three are now at the new primary school on Crane), there is no excuse for swings or play structures to take away valuable field space which benefits an entire town.

Summer nights under the lights were always so fun for a kid. You could flirt and preen with abandon as the “old folks” strutted their stuff on the diamonds. Sunday nights meant “Blue Sox” (hardball), which brought semi-pro teams in from around the area.

Kiwanis or Rotary was always good for some charity event like Donkey Baseball or some form of “The King and His Court” in an exhibition against the town’s finest.

The Rockettes played a couple of times a week and of course, there was “City League.”

The Star covered it with stories, box scores and pictures each week.

Today, I’m told they have enough teams to play more nights. But they’ve met resistance—from the City, the neighbors and the Schools.

I don’t get it. Lights have been on Carpy Field since we arrived here in 1957. They should be used every night. Does no one get why?

If once 600 people played—why that’s 10 percent of the town. It’s why we support Bocci. We like communities, “communing” together.

It occurs to one in these divisive days as folks pit neighbor against neighbor that if the community had more playing time on the fields, there would be less acrimony. It’s pretty hard to recall a teammate.

There’s nothing like the crucible of competition for building mutual respect—even among out of shape weekend warriors.

The obligatory Beer at Anna’s after the game might go a long way towards improving “communication.”

Community events define a town: Concerts in the Park; the Farmer’s Market; High School Football games; Parades; Auctions; Crab Feeds; Chili Balls; Harvest Festivals—-all contribute to cohesiveness.

But nothing matches competitive softball. Think about it: When softball ruled the summer nights—-not once was there ever a recall—-or threat of one.




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