Spring has arrived - the flowers are blooming and the birds are singing. The farmers are plowing up ground and preparing for another crop year. The children are looking forward to planning their upcoming summer vacation. Those of us who enjoy gardening can't wait to start digging in the garden or flower beds. All of these things are fun and exciting, but what I like best about spring is baseball!
That's right, baseball. Is this the year that Mark McGwire will break his own homerun record, or that Sammy Sosa will break Mark McGwire's record, but most of all, is this the year my beloved Atlanta Braves will win the World Series and dethrone those despicable New York Yankees?
My love for baseball goes back to my young days as a student at the now non-existent Morgan City High School.
Our school was so small that virtually every male student from the grade 8 through 12 had to participate in sports so that we could have teams. However, we always managed to have a pretty good team, even producing numerous players who went on to play college ball and a few who even played professionally.
Our opponents were schools such as Tchula, Louise, Inverness, Minter City and Itta Bena, most of which have long been disbanded to make way for consolidation. As you might imagine, we didn't have a lighted field, bleachers and such like things; our field rather looked like a cow pasture. However, we all looked forward to game day when we could sit out on the grass and cheer for our team, and occasionally make a trip across the road to get a drink or a dill pickle from Scott's Grocery.
My love for baseball continued as I followed my husband's college baseball career. Then along came a son who also loved baseball. I followed him through summer ball as well as four years of high school ball.
For the last 10 years or so, my sister and I have been avid, or should I say "obnoxious," Atlanta Braves fans. We enjoy the beginning of the season, becoming acquainted with the new players, and complaining about the old ones who have been traded.
My brother-in-law says that we are not really concerned about how well they can play ball, we are just concerned about how good they look. Anyway, we surmise that it doesn't hurt to look good while you are playing ball.
A few years back, my children, grandchildren and I made a trip to Atlanta to attend some games. I made all of the arrangements, booked our rooms and got the best tickets available. Our seats were not all that good and it was very hot, but we enjoyed being there anyway.
Our motel was right off the interstate so we parked our car and took a taxi to our destination. This worked quite well until the second night.
My son, grandson and I hopped into one of the taxis lined up in front of our motel and the driver took us right to the entrance of the ballpark.
However, when the game was over, we had to walk to the end of the block and get in line to get a taxi back to our motel.
The taxis were lined up to pick up passengers and we were supposed to take the next one in line. Most of them were nice looking vehicles; however, some looked as if they had been salvaged from the junkyard.
Well, ours turned out to be one of those. It was a three-seater; therefore, three more people were riding with us. My son got on the front seat with the driver, there were two young men on the second seat, and my grandson and I were seated in the back seat or third seat along with another young man. The driver was from another country (as most of the taxi drivers are), but he had picked up enough colorful English words to "cuss out" everyone who got in his way. He drove 75 miles an hour down through Atlanta. Needless to say, our knuckles were white! He had to drop off passengers at three different motels and ours was the last.
It seemed that he passed our motel a couple of times, but I'm not sure.
When we finally arrived at our motel, my son remarked to my grandson that he didn't think it would be necessary to go to Six Flags the next day because nothing could top that ride. The moral of this story is, don't ever get in a taxi that looks as if it came from the junkyard!
The Braves lost both of the games that we attended, just as they lost in the playoffs last year. But spring has arrived and it's time for another baseball season to begin.
Perhaps this is the year the Braves will go all the way.
Whatever the case, my sister and I will be in front of the TV cheering them on.
Ervilene Pruett is a retired paralegal from Staplcotn. She resides in Greenwood.
