Backyard Innovation

As a kid, there was no greater domain than the back yard. Whether it be my own or if it belonged to someone else, the greatest adventures all took place in someone's back yard. I've built time machines, battled weeds, and have even been a participant in the Gentry Olympics. As I've attended several baseball games and the batting cages lately, I've been reminded of the games we had on Gentry Field (now renamed Simmons Memorial Field). With a total of 4 players on both teams, it called for some excellent, creative innovations.

My personal favorite: ghost on base. One pitcher was required. This left as little as three players for the team at-bat. Should the bases become loaded, the runner on third would call, "Ghost on third!" and proceed home for the next hit. The ghost follows very specific rules and only proceeds when forced by a later runner. If the ghost is not forced, it does not proceed to the next base. If we played with only one hitter on a team (which happened often enough), the bases could be loaded with ghosts alone. Sounds like a Scooby-Doo episode.

Rules to replace basemen: without basemen, we changed the rules to accommodate for their absence. First base was generally the forsythia bush, second, a place-marker in the middle of the yard, third, the green bush, and home a barren spot of earth. Should a ball be in play but uncaught, it can be lobbed at the base itself. This only got a player out if he was forced onto the base and had not touched the base before the ball made contact. Alternately, the ball could also be thrown at the player. This was not a pleasant way to get out, but it also helped to keep runners from stealing bases as getting hit by a ball is in no way coveted.

Home runs: anything in Bobby and Esther's yard.

Everyone could play catcher. Rarely did we have enough people to actually use a catcher, so an untouched ball usually ended up in the Simmons' yard. So it was a common maneuver to slide down the bank, pick up the ball, and throw it back before it got run over by the lawn mowers.

Lastly, any arrival on any base by the method of sliding was encouraged, celebrated, and enjoyed by all. This is the case in any youth ballfield, but grass stains abound when the field is a back yard.

I can only hope my yard will be big enough for my family to play mini-baseball, and if we're truly lucky, we'll create some strange customs and rules to account for our specific situation. If nothing else, perhaps the kids will come up with stipulations that any adults must run on their knees, much to Natalie's chagrin. Later!

P. S. Natalie is NOT pregnant currently, or if she is, it's news to me. I talk about kids because I do expect them eventually. The end.