The "Off The Wall" Story

Foreword:  I have written quite a few stories during the past nine years about my love of baseball.  Often I would tell of youth ball games known as "off the wall" in the parking lot of the printing company behind my childhood home on North Queen Street in Lancaster, PA.  But, I never really told how it was played and by whom.  That will all change today.

It was an ordinary day.  Talking with my brother Steve about baseball.  Nothing new, since that's what we talk about all the time.  I was five years older than my brother, but that didn't stop him from trying to keep up with me in baseball.  When I played midget-midget baseball (ages 9-12 years old) he was always at the games and sometimes served as bat boy.  He eventually played midget-midget, jr. midget, and high school ball at Manheim Township High School and still holds our high school record for most consecutive strike-outs by a pitcher when he struck out 11 players in a row.  His name is still in the record book in a few other pitching categories, right behind my son Derek's name.  But what we both remember the most about our baseball careers is playing "off the wall" in the macadam parking lot of the printing company that was behind our house in the north end of the city of Lancaster, PA.

The strike zone is missing on the far wall, the bottom
row of windows are no longer there, the trash receptacle now
sits where the pitching mound was and the sidewalk is new
concrete, but this was the parking lot where we spent many
hours playing "off the wall."  The street in the foreground is
known as McGovern Ave. and sees very little traffic.  The
macadam still remains, but with a new coating.  As I stood,
taking this photo, I could almost hear the crack of the bat
and someone from across the street yelling..."I Got it!"

 The parking lot emptied most days about 3:00 pm and shortly after a few neighbor- hood guys would be on the lot getting ready for the first inning of the game.  On the wall of the building was a strike zone made of black electrical tape.  Same size for every one no matter what size you might be.  Dave G. was always the biggest as well as oldest, but not necessarily the best.  We usually had four, five or six guys show up so we tried to make the teams even.  One guy pitched while the other guy or guys would play the outfield.  The outfield happened to be across Christian Street in another parking lot made of small stones.  Since the street was scarcely traveled we had little worry that a car would get in the way.  Rules were that you could walk, strike out, get a hit, ground out or fly out.  If your hit landed on the macadam parking lot it was a single.  If your hit made it to the stone lot across the street it was either a double, triple or homer depending on how far you hit it.  If you hit the ball off the wall of the printing company that was all around us, it was a foul ball.  If you broke one of the windows on the company wall, we all ran.  Steve did well when we played and in most cases I picked him for my team.  We had a line on the parking lot which was the pitching rubber.  Pitcher threw the ball and if it was inside the tape on the wall it was a strike unless the batter hit it.  Same for a ball if it was outside the tape.  The ball we used was either a rubber ball or tennis ball.  Either way, it was approximately the size of a regulation baseball.  Some days the game was a bit more interesting when the twin daughters of the guy who owned the nearby beer distributor stopped by to watch.  Happened to be close to my age, but too old for Steve.  If the game began after supper, we played until dark.  If it began before supper we played until someone heard their mom yell to us to get home and eat.  Games were a ton of fun until one summer day when I was about 12 years old.  While four of us were playing we were interrupted when a police cruiser pulled up in the outfield parking lot.  The officers watched for a few minutes and then got out of their car and walked over to us.  Told us the printing company didn't want us on the parking lot any longer since we had broken too many windows.  

I'm standing at home plate against the old press building.
Not sure what company it is today, but it still looks the same.  The
building on the left side of the photo was a foul ball if it
was hit that direction.  At one time the building was Armstrong
Beer Distributor's and the owner had twin girls who would
stand against the wall many a day and watch our ball games.
Straight ahead is a stone parking lot, just as it used to be.
Hit it that direction and if it wasn't caught, it was either a
homer, triple or double.  If a car that was parked across
the street was hit...well...tough luck!  My brother and I honed
our baseball skills on this piece of turf for many, many hours.
Fun we will never forget.

Not true, we told the cops!  We had only ever broken one window in all the years we played.  Seems a few other guys didn't like us playing and broke a couple dozen windows one evening after we finished our game.  Not sure if the police believed us since they loaded the four of us in the car and stopped at each house to take us in and tell our parents about what we had done.  Kenny's house was closest so they walked him to his front door first.  Then it was Dave and Bill who lived a block away and close to each other.  Then I was the only one left in the back seat.   Didn't say a word.  I was scared to death.  Were they going to lock me up?  Stopped in front of my house and walked me to the door.  Dad wasn't home, but mom was petrified.  I sat in the living room while they explained to my mom about the broken windows.  No one had seen us do it, but we were suspected of all the damage.  My brother was lucky that day since he had somewhere else to go and wasn't playing with us.  Surprisingly my mom and dad believed me, but that didn't matter.  Our games of "off the wall" were history.  My poor brother wouldn't be able to carry on the neighborhood tradition of playing "off the wall."  Funny the things you never forget.  To this day I still remember all the homers I hit and some of the great catches I made in the stone parking lot.  And...my brother and I still try and outdo each other with the stories we tell about playing "off the wall".  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.