This One's for little Johnny

It was a Thursday night, 6pm; I was just coming off of another mundane 9 to 5. Typically, I would be at home dreading the next day at work, but that night I was looking forward to my weekly softball game! I know that sounds kind of corny or whatever, but by the time you read the end of this, you will understand.
Slow pitch softball is more than just a bunch of out of shape 20, 30, 40, even 50-something men reliving the glory days. It’s an escape, and a chance to live a small part of the shattered dream we all had as kids…to be a major league baseball player. It’s like a time warp for an hour or two where all of those worries, aches, and pains (bad knees, pulled muscles, gray hairs), are left behind and erased when you step between those lines. You are no longer thinking about that deadline at work, why your ex-wife or girlfriend hates you, or how you’re going to pay next month’s mortgage. You are just playing ball with the boys.
I play in a small town, in a small state, in a league that has no major significance, but I still run hard, slide, dive, and play as if I am trying to win a World Series; not because I am making it out to be bigger than what it is, but because I owe it to myself as the star reaching kid with the big dreams. It doesn’t matter how significant it is or who is watching.
This particular Thursday took softball night to a whole new level for me. It was the bottom of the last inning, one out, runners on second and third, the game was tied and it was my turn to hit. I knew I was going to swing as hard as I could at the first pitch before it left the pitchers hand. As I watched the pitch falling down from the sky towards me, I remember a quick flashback to me as a kid having the same love for the game. The only difference was when I was ten the world was mine to conquer, and I thought I could be a big leaguer; now I am twenty seven with a wrapped up leg, gray hair and no chance at any glory… so this was my moment. I swung all of my frustrations of an average life and crushed the ball to right field for a hit, and we won the game. I remember smiling from ear to ear as my teammates all celebrated by home plate and I felt vindicated, and for that moment, on that night, I lived the dream…and it doesn’t matter how small of a moment it was to the league, the town, the state, or anyone besides the ten of us right then and there, it was our moment and we cherished it. It’s more than just a slow pitch softball game to us; it’s a chance to step between those lines and escape the rigors of everyday normalcy and real life frustrations, take a trip down memory lane and live the dream one more time. So to that and for all of those reasons, as the field lights went down over us sending us back into our average lives, I raised my Busch Light and said cheers to our team….to Putnam House softball….to one more day in the sun.

- Johnny Crash