Baseball, Hotdogs...and What Kind of Pie?

Spring training for major league baseball has recently ended. The regular season has begun, and it's this time of year when I can't help but remember one particular sandlot game Skunky and I played in the pasture of his family's farm the summer of our 14th year.

The night before the game, I slept over at the Wilson's house so Skunky and I could get an early start preparing for the game. The next morning, shortly after sunrise, Skunky and I grabbed a shovel and went out to the pasture to make a baseball diamond.As I was digging away some of the grass to make home plate, a sudden, sharp streak of pain ran through my spine. We had forgotten about Lucifer, Mrs. Wilson's rooster.

Lucifer was an attack rooster. I don't know where Mrs. Wilson got him from (I suspect it was at a cock fight), but, when someone was out in the pasture, that dang rooster would sneak up behind the person, plant his claws in the person's back, and begin pecking at him.I dropped the shovel with a screech and began running in circles, grabbing at the roster, and bellowing, "Help, Lucifer's got a hold of me! Free me. Free me from Lucifer!"Mrs. Wilson heard the commotion. For an instant her heart filled with joy at the thought that one of her son's rascally friends had seen the light. But, she looked out her kitchen window and saw me giving a piggyback ride to her rooster. "Those dern kids, " she chuckled, "they're always a coming up with some newfangled way to en'ertain themselves."

After Skunky gained controlled of his laughter, he grabbed the shovel. He swung with all his might at the rooster pecking at my back.Now, Skunky's never been noted for being able to aim well at moving targets and --well, after the swelling went down, I didn't appear to have any major deformities. Although, since then, my hats have never quite fit the same.

Finally, I backed into the electric fence surrounding the pasture, shocking Lucifer. He released his grip, and left us alone the rest of the day.

The ball game was a close one. In the bottom of the 9th inning my team was down 2 to 3. We had two out with Skunky's sister, Jenny, on third. I was up to bat, facing a full count.The last pitch came. I took aim, gathered all my strength, and swung at that ball as if to send it to the moon.

My teammates screamed as I cracked the ball with my bat. "Go, Doug! Run, Jenny!"they shouted as Jenny ran toward home, and I headed to first.As I rounded third base, I glanced back to the outfield. The ball had been scooped up off the ground and thrown in the direction of home plate, andI tried to pick up my speed in an effort to reach home ahead of the ball.

Sweat stung my eyes, blurring my vision, as I headed for home to score the winning run. Through the blur, I could faintly see not one, but two homeplates. There was no time to clear my sight; I had to decide which plate to slide to.I dove head first, arms outstretched, mouth gaping open and sucking air.

When I hit the ground, it dawned on me that home plate shouldn't feel soft and gooey. And when that most gosh awful taste hit my mouth, I realized what I had done.What is that old saying? As American as baseball, hot dogs...and what kind of pie?

17 comments:
cmk said...
Oh. My. Gosh!LOL...love your stories.
Sunday, April 9, 2006 5:28:00 PM EDT
JunieRose2005 said...
LOL!Doug, that's a good,funny,country kid story! I LOVED reading it!( :) and it brought to mind a rooster story of my own-which I may post one day soon!...Coming to a blog near you -so watch for it!! )Junie
Sunday, April 9, 2006 6:04:00 PM EDT
Valerie said...
oh, EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!once again, proof why you're not safe at home.
Sunday, April 9, 2006 8:05:00 PM EDT
Kelly said...
Great Story Doug!~~ I don't know what was funnier~Envisoning Mrs. Wilsons' face all aglow clasping her bosom, hollerin "Praise the Lord, the youngun is saved"~~ or you sliding in home plate 'scooping poop'~~ I go with the latter. ;)LOVED IT!
Sunday, April 9, 2006 10:52:00 PM EDT
4evergapeach said...
I'll never watch a player sliding into home again without thinking of your story...LOL!Never heard of attack roosters, but let me tell you, geese can be REAL mean birds!
Monday, April 10, 2006 6:01:00 PM EDT
Lis said...
How fitting it is that a BIRD was named Lucifer!!!Great Story Doug! Pasture Patties, nothing quite like slipping in one of those things, I can only imagine how horrific it was to slide face first!
Monday, April 10, 2006 9:22:00 PM EDT
The Kept Woman said...
Moon Pies?!?!?!!?!?
Wednesday, April 12, 2006 3:39:00 PM EDT
doodlebugmom said...
I grew up playing softball in the pasture too. Great memories!Linda :o)
Thursday, April 13, 2006 4:07:00 PM EDT
Melanie said...
Oooh cowpie. Yuck. Reading your site is ways gives me a few moments of laughter.
Thursday, April 13, 2006 9:41:00 PM EDT
Slim Suzy said...
LOL, Oh, yuck!!!! Have a lovely Easter Doug.
Thursday, April 13, 2006 10:48:00 PM EDT
Hale McKay said...
LOL - we used to throw them (dry ones) like frisbees or discus - but we never thought you could dive in them....Great post....Thanks for visit.
Thursday, April 13, 2006 11:16:00 PM EDT
Trudging said...
Got to love an attack rooster
Friday, April 14, 2006 9:42:00 AM EDT
Jamie Dawn said...
Eeeeww, you poor fella!I take it the game ended in a tie, and a major embarrassment for you.Lucifer was watching from across the field, and let out a satisfying cluck-le.We had a rooster and few chickens when our daughter was about one. The rooster pecked her. Later, after she had awakened from her nap I took her outside. Her daddy had killed that rooster out of anger for making his baby cry, but he had not gotten rid of the dead rooster. Courtney waddled on over to the pen, saw the dead rooster and said, "Rooster ni-night."That's one of my precious memories. It was so funny and so sweet.
Friday, April 14, 2006 5:52:00 PM EDT
Bossy♥'s YOU said...
you are a true crack up..you couldnt mae this stuff up..could you?..haha
Friday, April 14, 2006 5:54:00 PM EDT
Deevulge said...
Great story! As I sit here on the porch, I had to laugh out loud!...I have never heard of an attack rooster before. In my head, such a thing seems to be an appropriate metaphore for the uncomfortable changes that happen with spring.
Saturday, April 15, 2006 9:54:00 AM EDT
Christa said...
LOL...that rooster should be in a leesh. Thanks for your kind words in my blog btw :)
Saturday, April 15, 2006 10:17:00 AM EDT
Da Gal said...
Did you recover in time to be safe, at home plate that is???Great story Doug. I have recently started writing stories of my childhood and when I am at a loss for what to say I remember you writing your fun stories and I pull up one of those from my file. (That's my memory BTW.)
Tuesday, April 18, 2006 7:42:00 AM EDT