There was a time of living in a small town where everyone knew everyone else. It still exists in a few rural areas, but the entertainment may be slightly, more difficult to find. Job opportunities and declining populations of young adults create a void in natural entertainment.
In my early twenties, I joined the town’s fast-pitch softball team. I didn’t play much, but I was given a uniform with a blue shirt, white lettering, a number and sponsor’s name on the back, along with white pants enhanced by a blue stripe down the side. Stirrup socks were included and I loved wearing them. I had to purchase my own cleats and bring my own glove. The team provided a cap to wear, as well.
My playing days occurred mostly when the number of players who showed up for a game was nine, and I was the ninth player. I was stationed in right field looking into the sun for the better part of a ballgame. There were times I played second base, and I even had one chance to play the hot corner (3rd base). If I wasn’t batting in the ninth position, I was listed as batting second. I was a pretty good bunter and could move a runner over. Also, I could steal a base. After a while, I was asked to manage the team. It was a flattering experience.
The primary reason for having me manage the team was to replace the player/manager system that presented some potential problems; not that any were evident. My style was not unlike anything you would see in the major leagues during the seventies and eighties. The lineups were drafted primarily using statistics – statistics that I processed and kept. Teammates were always interested in seeing what their batting average was, how many home runs they hit, bases stolen, etc.
The team recruited Fritz McCaffery to run a public address system they purchased. It wasn’t long before I joined Fritz at the table behind the screen in front of home plate. I kept the scorebook, and added a little color commentary when Fritz would refer to me. At almost every home game I was asked to describe how to play baseball/softball. I did it without hesitation, pausing, and completely from memory; and I recited it very fast.
Okay, you got nine guys in and nine guys out.
The nine guys out try to get the nine guys in, out three times.
The nine guys in send guys up to get on so that they can get in, without getting out.
Once the nine guys out get the nine guys in out three times, the nine guys out come in and the nine guys in go out to get the nine guys in, who were out, out three times.
The nine guys in, who were out, also send guys up to try to get on so that they can get in, without getting out.
After the nine guys out and the nine guys in go in and out nine times the guys with the most guys in after getting on without getting out are the winners.
We also provided commercials between innings. “Visit the Vail Swimming Pool Association Concession Stand on the north end of the bleachers by left field. They have hot dogs, popcorn, candy, and soda pop, all at a reasonable price.” We made other announcements about an event coming up in the community and promoted our sponsor, the Longbranch.
Also, as soon as it looked as though the crowd was as big as it could get, and sunset was imminent, we would remind the viewers in the stands that the team paid to turn on the lights, “so please be generous as we pass the hat.” We would identify the kids who were assigned to pass the hat that night so that some kid couldn’t pose as one of the designated hat passers and take off with ill-gotten booty. Everyone knew everyone, including the kids, so no illicit shenanigans ever took place.
One of the joys of living in a small town is the family-orientated entertainment, and Vail’s fast-pitch softball team existed between a very good baseball team in the early Twentieth Century and several slo-pitch softball teams late in the century.
A familiar announcement from the PA at a home softball game may include: “Coming up in the bottom of the fourth inning will be Jerry Peiper, followed by Dick Peiper, and Larry Peiper.” Or, “Phil Ruch, followed by Mike Ruch, and Randy Ruch.” Or even “Dan Lally and Dick Lally followed by Russ Hawley and Tom Hawley.” Of course, those seemingly redundant lineup announcements would often be followed by or preceded by Larry Siebert, or Jim Hickey, Mike Scott, Barry Bergamo, Tim Bell, and a few other hometown men known to the entire crowd, with the exception of the visiting team. Even at some games, the visitors knew all the Vail ballplayers.
On many summer nights, and a few Sunday afternoons, you would see cars and pickups parked across from the Vail ball diamond. Those who knew better did not park directly behind the bleachers. More than one windshield was cracked from a foul ball, and a few dents were seen on an occasional parked vehicle. But that was the price paid for some of the best entertainment a small town had to offer.
Kids were given a nickel for every foul ball returned to the scorer’s table. A whole game could be played with as little as three good softballs without delay. No one sold beer, but looking out over the stands you could see a cooler, a twelve-pack, or six-pack. BYOB was popular throughout the circuit.
We traveled to Dedham, Gray, Willy, Schleswig, Denison, Audubon, Deloit, Charter Oak, and a few other communities around west central Iowa. Those communities were committed to their respective teams, but not one could match the attendance at a Vail fast-pitch softball game. It must have been the announcers and the Vail Swimming Pool Association Snack Shack that brought in the crowds.
Ah, the good old days!
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