The "Boy...Could My Uncle John Throw A Softball" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading the headline on page A11 of my morning newspaper.  "Recalling the glory days" was a story of years long ago when fast pitch softball was all the rage in Lancaster County, Pennsylvnia.  I can still remember heading to Conlin Field to watch my Uncle John pitch against some of the best teams in Lancaster County.  He first played for the business where he worked and then for the his church team.  At one time, years ago, John was one of the best fast-pitch softball players in Lancaster County.  He and other pitching stars with names such as "Pinky" Geraci, Rex Giberson and Barry Parmer drew headlines many summer evenings, telling of their skills in the Lancaster Rec League.  Some week-ends I would go to watch Uncle John pitch in a tournament where it wasn't unusual to see him pitch half-a-dozen games over the weekend if his team made it to the final rounds of the tournament.  Uncle John's right arm, his pitching arm, was another half-size larger than his left arm due to pitching several games on the same day over the summer.  John was a big guy and was a formidable behemoth as he stood 43 feet from home plate, starring at his next strike-out victim.  I batted against him one time, in a pick-up game at a family picnic, and that one time was more than enough for me.  I played slow-pitch softball in my local rec-league when I was in my early 20s and seeing a ball come out of the pitcher's hand at more than what seemed to be a hundred times the speed of slow-pitch was amazing.  I'm just so glad I never had to stand in the batter's box, waiting for John to release the ball at the bottom of his windmill arc.  Fast-pitch softball was a way of life for those who played the game in the summer months.  And...Lancaster, Pennsylvania was one of the hotbeds for fast-pitch in Pennsylvania.  Many a tournament filled the softball fields on a week-end.  If you aren't familiar with fast-pitch, I should tell you that the bases are about the distance of a little-league baseball field.  And, when you fill that field with large men, it quickens your reactions if you expect to stay alive throughout the weekend tournament.  John invited me to play in one tournament with his team when they were missing a few players and I had a great time, but was scared half-to-death for just about every game.  Playing third base against large guys when you are only 60 feet away from them swinging a bat at a ball traveling maybe 100 miles-an-hour is a real thrill.  No way could I do it all summer long.  My morning newspaper today told of a fast pitch softball reunion of players who played fastpitch in "The Glory Days".  The first sentence in the story read..."Sport has...the power to unite people in a way that little else does."  These words were spoken by Nelson Mandela in 1994 referring to using rugby to unite people in his country.  Little did he know that fastpitch softball did much the same thing 50 years ago in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  My Uncle John's playing days are over, but reminiscing about them will go on forever.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.