That's Baseball

Despite his dressing-down from the Colonel, E.A. got drunk again the next Saturday after beating Sherbrooke, and he stayed over with Earl and Moonface at the Jolie Blon with a woman who didn't speak two words of English. Gypsy was waiting for him in the kitchen when Earl slowed down just enough for E.A. to stumble out his car and stand shakily in the dooryard in the sunrise.

The 6:05 whistled at the railway crossing, reminding E.A. of Teddy. He felt bad. He felt like crying. Something was wrong, and it was more than just being hung over. He remembered learning how to read from the names on the sides of the boxcars, but he couldn't remember exactly ho he'd gotten to the Jolie Blon or when they'd left. He vaguely recalled Earl and Moonface helping him into the car.

He stood in the dooryard, watching the freight pass like a ghost train in the mist. Gypsy sat at the kitchen table, watching E.A. out the window, Grandpa Gleason Allen's deer rifle in her hands, pointed at the door. Gran sat in her old-fashioned wicker wheelchair by the table. For the first time in years, she'd gotten up before ten A.M.

-- Waiting for Teddy Williams by Howard Frank Mosher

In baseball and life you get a lot of days like this while growing-up, and I'm not referring specifically to the drunkeness (although that is significant in its own right). The stumbles and pitfalls along the way do not occur infrequently, regardless of how mature and responsible one may seem. Clearly, a child, adolescent, college student will test the patience of everyone around him or her -- that's baseball, that's life.

In the book I refer to above, Teddy helps E.A. grow-up through baseball. He wisely keeps E.A. from getting down on himself by telling him that his mistakes in the field are a part of the game. After making a mistake, Teddy thinks simply pointing out the error is enough. The responsibility to learn and keep it from happening again is up to E.A.

The part where the reader sees a drunken, teenage E.A. is the first real mistake made off of the diamond. This is also the first divergent path that E.A. seemingly takes which leads him away from his dream of baseball immortality.

Wating for Teddy Williams is a great piece of fiction that reminds the reader of Mark Twain. I give it plusses for humor, baseball, and outlandish scenarios and personalities.

Being away from home and at Wabash, I was able to keep all the big mistakes away from the attention of my parents; a situation that was much easier with respect to the situation that E.A. found himself.

Not surprisingly, most of those mistakes involved some situation that included alcohol, girls, and my own outlandish personality.

Some Valuable Life Lessons:

Do not urinate in a public place in front of Greencastle's finest before a Monon Bell game. In fact, do not urinate in any public place.

Do not invite more than one girl to a party without making it very clear whether or not you want or will have a date to the party. The best (and consequently only) way out of this sort of predicament is to black-out as fast as you possibly can and let the proverbial chips fall where they may.

More than two pieces of flair are necessary to drink.

Do not drink so much that you vomit on the local constable, get to ride in a little ambulance, and then spend the next six months wondering how you're going to take care of outstanding medical bills.

Do not slap the bartender on the ass after getting her to give you her cowboy hat. She only gave it to you because you were probably being really annoying and because you bought all those jager shots that she foisted upon you.

Do not take shots consisting of one part the cheapest vodka you've ever laid eyes on and one part the cheapest rum you've ever laid eyes on.

If you walk into a room and see that your friends are in the middle of century club, most certainly do not, under any circumstances, start from twenty shots down and catch up when everyone is starting shot number 35 or thereabouts. You may finish this insane endeavor of drinking stupidity, but you sure don't feel like a winner afterwards.

Do not slip n' slide in the buff. You'll find bruises and marks in all sorts of fun spots.

Do not try sliding across the dance floor of a nearly empty Neon Cactus. When the bar hasn't filled up yet and you start doing stunts like that, you are essentially marking yourself as a clear and open target between the bouncer, his foot, and the door.

Do not dance with women over 40 while out on spring break.

Do not drink so much that you fall asleep with your eyes wide open...that's just creepy and really sends the wrong message.

Do laugh and be as loud as you can all the time.

Baseball, drinking, life -- they all seem to blur together quite nicely after all.