Turn out the lights...

The season finally comes to an end. Not that we wanted it to be over. It would be nice if it went on forever although, with the injuries we sustain, probably best we take a break. Eventful evening.

The early game, although inconsequential, had some consequences. Try as we might to end the season without the need for professional medical assistance, it was not to be. Not saying some, if not most, sought out professionals due to their exploits on the field, just that it was the first time we had to have them come to the game. Rick of Moosehead fame, made an ill-conceived return to first base and, in his rush, misplaced something in his lower leg, making him less than ambulatory. So, we called an ambulance to cart him away. To add insult to injury, I took the time to hit a high foul ball directly where he was laying off field awaiting medical transport. Luckily, it missed, as he was still able to roll away enough to avoid contact. Hoping it is a recoverable injury and wish Rick all the best for a full return to health. On the bright side, the Mooseheads successfully secured last place, competing for the required loss against the Bevies and Bats, who tried, but simply need to be satisfied with third place, that middle child, the one who will most likely be overlooked.

The championship game was won by Budweiser, triumphing over the Bat Busters in a highly offensive game. Not that it was odd smelling or insulting, there were just a lot of runs scored by the offence on both sides. Congratulations to the few remaining original team members of the Buds, some of who were even still able to run under their own steam. Kudos to the Bat Busters for handily taking control of the regular season and finishing first in the standings in that regard. In either case, it’s still not last place, but it will have to do. Of course, as always, a few special thanks are due. To Sue and Jeff Miller, Sue with her communications expertise and Jeff in his support role. Behind every great woman is a man and that man would be Jeff. Close behind but not too close. Even if it is simply moral support, a valuable asset. As for Sue, not enough can be said of her contribution to the league. With Sue, unlike Cool Hand Luke, we never have ‘failure to communicate’. She will be missed, as she has decided to take leave of her absence next season. Guess she found that first grey hair and decided to opt out for less strenuous activities. Appreciate all your years of servitude to the cause. To Diane Dickson, our Treasurer, thanks for handling the finances and not running off to some tropical country with our monies. Probably only enough to get you to Hamilton, on the bus, in any event. And for a very short visit. To Sandra Moffat, our Social Director, for taking on that special title that simply allows her to party with reason. Like any of us ever need an excuse, especially her.

Those are our behind the scenes individuals. Send them thanks and warm wishes, even if they are only lukewarm. If you wish, you can even thank me, even if it is simply for all the photos I did not publish and the words I did not use. Or curse me under your breath. Or toss me the bird. No matter. I’ll take the recognition either way. In front of the scene are the captains. As always, nothing happens on the field without their contributions. Strictly voluntary, they do it neither for the money nor the fame, simply giving up their time to shape a motley crew into a cohesive unit, to make us look organized and, at times, less disheveled. Thanks for all those extra hours put in, to allow the rest of us to put in an hour on the field. And for all those who subbed for captains, who took the role when they must, they are also due thanks. It’s a job most do not always want, but it does not need to be a thankless one. So…thanks. Thanks to all the players for coming out. We couldn’t have done it without you. Literally. Thanks for occasionally risking life and limb just to make the games possible, if not simply humorous.

Others include the scorers, who keep us mathematically correct (most times) and the fans, who keep the benches warm and cheer us on. All on their own dime. Thanks to both and keep coming out. Would be less without you. Last, but never least, Sid, our umpire, who keeps us all in line, well-informed and away from each other’s throats. Only person who does get paid, but it is probably not enough for the contribution he makes and the potshots he occasionally takes (as do we all). Couldn’t pay me enough to keep you all in line like he seems to do. Special thanks to Paul, our former ump, for coming out of retirement to officiate in the first game. He was fully aware of what we are like and he still came back, so we must still be fooling some. Or, perhaps like a train wreck, people are just drawn to come out and look at the carnage. Thanks to all and thanks to everyone else simply for coming out to watch or play and for making Tuesday evenings just that much more entertaining. You are all important contributing factors to the annual success of our league. Time to drone on further with some meaningless, metaphysical nonsense while I still have a captive audience. A time for some reflection on games past. What went wrong, what went right, what can be done better, what can be done with little or no effort.

Upon reflection, the only thing I can see is that most, if not all, things cannot be undone or even need to be. Not a bad thing, but perhaps just relative to what you did or refrained from doing, even when it came to the playoffs, when it is all or nothing. But, of course, it is never for nothing. Something is always gained simply from the act of doing, even if it is not doing much. Usually reciprocal, that is, what you put into it is what you get out of it, but not necessarily, at a least not for us. You can usually get a lot out of it simply by what others do, the actions the others may take. Or, in most cases, the actions others try to take. Much more funny that way. So, even if you take from it what you put into it, you can take a lot from it by just being aware of your surroundings, being aware of your fellow cohorts and the actions (or inaction) they attempt to exude. Be it either acts of pure skill or simple, breathtaking displays of ineptitude, everyone plays a major part in adding to your experience, be it gasping in amazement from sheer awe or just gasping for air because you can’t stop laughing so much.

Even if your skills are not up to par, a long as you take an active part, you are enriching the life of others with your antics, however ineffective you feel they may be. You are never wholly ineffective. For every cause there is an effect and, just ‘cause you are out there, you are bound to have some sort of effect. If I wanted to watch displays of pure skill, I’d stay at home and watch the Majors. Prefer to come out and watch our league transgress the game of baseball, never knowing what to expect, whether that far hit ball will be caught or missed in some sort of extraordinary fashion (or simply hit for that matter). If you can’t always be good, you can always be good for a laugh, having one or causing one. Makes no difference, each creates a positive outcome. Even if you never sock away a lot of wins under your belt, if you are simply enjoying yourself, then you must be doing something right. And, if you find yourself not enjoying yourself, making one too many errors, take solace in the fact you are definitely, at the very least, creating enjoyment for others and always in good company.

Everyone does their best and, even if it doesn’t work out, your self-sacrifice is always appreciated. Just try not to hurt yourself and incur anything more than a busted gut from a good belly laugh (oops, too late). Even if you may not strive to be a value to society, you will never be undervalued when you come out to play for our league. With little reference to closet space, thanks for coming out. There is never anything wrong with that. See you next year.