Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The "Last Game" Story
It was an ordinary day. I had been getting ready for vacation for a few days. Usual types of things like making sure all the bikes have air in the tires, checking the oil and water in the car, getting the last minute groceries, canceling the newspaper and preparing for the dog to visit with my parents. Tonight will be my last softball game until after vacation. I ate an early evening meal before heading out to the game. Carol and the kids will come to the game closer to starting time. I am playing for Shufflebottom Realty in the MT slow-pitch league. I few friends asked if I would be able to pitch for the team this year and I agreed. I played baseball for years, then managed little league for many years. A few years ago I started playing slow-pitch softball and really enjoyed it. Game time tonight is 7:30. We play the second game of three at Stauffer Park. Field is lighted and has some seating as well as a refreshment stand. Great for families. I started pitching a few years ago when it became apparent that I couldn't run the fly balls down in the outfield and my arm from third and shortstop to first wasn't what it used to be. Knees were also starting to go so catching wasn't an option. The only problem with pitching is that you are extremely close to the batter when you release the ball. In slow-pitch you must arch the ball to a specified height before it crosses the plate. Very few if any strikeouts occur in slow-pitch so it is necessary to have good defensive skills. Game starts and we grab an early lead. The lighting in the park is adequate, but not outstanding. About the third inning I am facing a good line drive hitter. I release the pitch and hear the ball hit the bat. Next thing I remember is laying on the ground at the pitching rubber. Evidently the batter hit the ball and it struck me on the right side of my face, near my mouth. I am looking up at my infielders who seem concerned. Someone hands me my glasses which were knocked off my face. I can taste the blood and feel the pain in my mouth. They help me sit and grab a towel to put on my mouth. Carol is summoned to get the car and bring it to the side of the field. A few of my teammates help me into the car and off we go to the hospital. I walked into the emergency room with the bloody towel to my face and am escorted to a waiting room. A few minutes later a former student of mine in high school enters the room. "Hi, I'm Doctor P.," he greets us. He examines my chart and replies, "Mr. LDub, is that you?" My face is swollen and bleeding and he doesn't recognize me. After examination he tells me I still have all my teeth, but most of them have tried to come through my mouth. He numbs me and proceeds to clean the wound and stitch the inside of my mouth. Tells me to keep ice on my mouth for a day and be careful when eating. "Hey, we're leaving for vacation in another day," I tell him. "No problem. Just take these pills if you have any pain," he tells me. It's off for the beach two days later. Having a great time and then I start to taste something in my mouth. I find a doctor to go to and he tells me my mouth is infected. After re-opening the wound, cleaning it and re-stitching it, I'm on my way with more pills. When I get back to our rental, I tell my wife, "I think I have played my last ball game!! This isn't fun anymore!!!" It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.
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