Field of Dreams

I've played in the Nashville Bar Association softball league for 30 years, maybe a year or two longer. When I write that or say it out loud, it's almost hard to fathom.  The softball league is something I have been a part of for as long as I've been practicing law.  Longer, even, since I played a season for Farris, Warfield & Kanaday when I was a runner there and a season for Manier, Herod when I was a second year law clerk. 

So many of my teammates - longtime teammates - have come and gone that, sometimes, I feel like the last man standing.  Weber, Benton, Richie, Sprader, Shawn, Dwayne, Chappie.  All gone but not forgotten. Through all of the wins, losses, titles, MVP and all-tournaments trophies, I've kept coming back to play, summer after summer, year after year.  And I've loved every game.  

Monday night, though, was quite possible my favorite and most memorable game I've played in the softball league.  

When I walked out to pitch in the bottom of the first inning, JP was in left field.  As a starter, not as some kind of a mascot.  At age 14, hat pulled down low, sunglasses on so he could see staring straight into the setting sun, there he was, playing left field for my softball team in my softball league.

Calling it a dream come true is hyperbole, maybe, but not by much.  The softball league has been such an important part of my professional life for so long.  JP has watched me play so many games over the years.  To see him out in left field, playing alongside me was a snapshot moment for sure, something I will never forget.  To watch him interact with my teammates as just that - another teammate - was special.  

In the second inning, after a single to left field, a runner on second base tried to score.  JP fielded the ball cleanly, and with me covering home, fired a 1-hop strike on a rope to nail the runner at home plate for the last out of the inning.  As he jogged in from left field, Quint (our left center fielder) tapped gloves with him.  JP smiled sheepishly as he trotted toward the dugout and tapped gloves with me, too.  What a moment!

For the night, JP was 2-3 and I was 3-4 with a triple.  The old man can still hit, though I'll leave out the part about me taking too big of a turn around third in the top of the sixth inning after my triple down the right field line, when I got picked off.  

In the end, the Russians lost to Not Guilty 19-18, after I gave up four runs in the bottom of the sixth inning.  Not Guilty posed for a photo at home plate after the game.  That's what happens when you beat the Russians in the Nashville Bar Association softball league.  

I was pissed for a minute - particularly at my baserunning blunder - but only for a minute.  As I had a beer with my teammates afterwards at Cleveland Street Park, telling stories and laughing together, I glanced over at JP, taking it all in.  

Field of Dreams?  For me, it sure was.