Ballgame (Blogophilia 27.7)
The sun bore down the worn wooden bleachers. The large, older man groaned and rubbed his thighs uncomfortably. Walter Murray was here to see his grandson play T-ball for the first time this season. The first three Saturday mornings he had to work. And he was happy not to think of dead people and grieving victims. Swiping a stained handkerchief across his shaved head, he looked around. A group of parents sat to his left. The parents for the opposing team sat on the other side of the backstop. A gaggle of girls had gathered behind the fence on the first base side to play zoo with some toy animals. They would march the menagerie up one side and down the other. One girl deliberately turned a zebra into a bush and screamed it was lost . And all the other animals rushed into the imaginary forest to find it. A small bit of string found and was used as a rope to pull it to safety. Hooray! Best Friend Park hadn’t changed much since he coached his sons ...