When my two siblings and I were growing up, Daddy worked
shift work at Dow Chemical. All of us, especially Mama, looked forward to the
evenings when Daddy worked days because after supper, Daddy and we young’uns
would pile into Daddy’s “work car”—a used Ford Falcon—and head out somewhere so
Mama could have a little quiet time. Of course, we jockeyed for shotgun,
although as the oldest, I usually had first dibs on it. The Falcon had a
three-speed transmission with the gear shift on the steering column. Daddy
would let the kid riding shotgun shift while he worked the clutch. When I
tired, or was gently encouraged, I let someone else take over shifting duties.
These after-dinner forays frequently started at the Brown’s
Velvet Creamery on Plank Road. In these heady days of ice cream after supper,
air conditioning was still a luxury, so we rode with the windows down and the
warm breeze tickling our desire for ice cream. We each got a scoop. Predictably,
I ordered my favorite flavor, chocolate-cherry-almond. Sadly for me, I never
found that
exact flavor combination in ice cream again. We could enjoy our ice cream in
a leisurely fashion, soaking in the air conditioning of the Creamery.
After we finished our cool treats, we headed off into the
warm evening to Howell Park to sit in on a beer-league baseball game. We did
not know any of the players or other people there. However, it was a fun way to
spend a little more time out of the house on a hot Baton Rouge summer night
with Daddy. We had fun crawling over the bleachers and people-watching. Aliens
could land on the baseball diamond and we would probably miss it.
However, one night, we actually witnessed a memorably clever
play. A runner was on second. The batter hit a fly ball. The runner on second
yelled, “I got it,” and everyone watched as the ball fell to the ground. Then,
of course, the runner took off for third, leaving a red-faced and frantic
second baseman and short stop.
These evenings of beer league baseball instilled in me a
love of baseball that has extended throughout my life. Football,
basketball, hockey, and other sports all have their fans. But if you want a
companion for a baseball game, count me in.