Have you ever seen that Hallmark movie where the author has written a successful book and his publisher wants a second book completed soon?

The author cannot come up with a reasonable story line and the more he struggles the worse the problem becomes.

Writer’s block they call it and from time to time I deal with that same problem.

In fact, it was yesterday that I sat down to write a blog and nothing came.

Usually something happens during the week that causes me to think, now that has great blog potential.

Well, I’ve had a very boring life the last couple weeks and I am in the same jam that the Hallmark writer was.

Then it happened, this morning at coffee a friend mentioned that our high school baseball team would be playing a double header at the local baseball field at 4:00 pm.

Remember I’ve had a couple boring weeks so that caught my attention, and I plan on taking the double header in this afternoon.

I counted the minutes as the day slowly progressed and finally it was time to take in the big double header!

Today as I approached the baseball field, I was shocked to see no cars, buses and most importantly, no coaches or baseball players!

Had my coffee drinking buddy been hallucinating or had the caffeine caused him brain confusion?

I made a U-turn and as I drove away from the field, I noticed the softball field was filled with young ladies preparing for a double header.

Softball and baseball are very similar I thought so why not enjoy watching a softball game. So, I parked the car and headed for the bleachers.

As I watched the girls play, I was not impressed with their skills. Something was not right.

The first game ended, and I asked the gentleman sitting next to me, “I thought the team we were playing was undefeated?”

He looked at me and gave me a sympathetic smile and replied, “Oh, this is the B team the varsity teams are playing on the field by the high school.”

I sheepishly slipped away from my seat and headed for my car.

As I approached the high school softball field, I was shocked to see the numbers of vehicles surrounding the field as spectators gathered together in chairs on both sides of the field.

The bleachers behind home plate did not have many spectators so I headed there to find a seat.

People were sitting on the ground level of the bleacher.

I had recently had hip surgery, so my balance was a little shaky.

The bleacher handrails were blocked by spectators, so I unwisely decided to climb the middle of the bleachers with no handrails. (to proud to ask someone to move so I could use the handrail) (:

So up I went with a bottle of Coke in one hand and a hotdog in the other.

I almost made it but as I approached my seat my balance failed me, and I started to topple. I bounced off the handrail stumbling around like a drunken sailor.

I finally got myself under control and sat down. There was mustard and ketchup running down my hand which I immediately began to lick off.

The hotdog bun was squeezed rather flat, and the spectators stared at me in shock!

My face was as red as the ketchup running down my hand.

I looked over at several gentlemen that I had just entertained a few seconds before and was shocked to have a memory flashback.

The man closest to me was a part of my past.

I began teaching in Wheaton in 1967. I started my coaching career there as a junior high basketball coach.

My basketball coaching career started when my team played a tiny neighboring town of Beardsley, Minnesota.

Beardsley was a much smaller school then Wheaton so I being the rookie coach that I was assumed it wouldn’t be much of a game.

As the game began guess who the star of the game was? That seventy- year- old man sitting down the bleachers from me!

He was a thirteen- year -old awesome basketball player! He cleaned our clocks!

When it came time for the eighth- grade game guess who was warming up with the Beardsley Mustangs?

Yes, that same awesome player that had just defeated my seventh graders.

So, 58 years later, we meet again.

When the girls game ended the seventy-year-old ex-basketball player and I bid farewell.

Not before he came over and asked if he could throw my coke bottle and hotdog container away for me which I thought was very nice of him. 🙂

And his final words were said very sternly, “And hold on to the handrail this time!”

I think I blushed again. 🙂

Until next time.