Glory Days

Turbo and his buddies have been playing softball for a long time. Long over 10 years, and if you factor in HS baseball the number is way closer to 20.

When we first started dating I would sit on the benches with the other lady-friends, watching the guys play, sipping rum & coke out of a McDonald's cup, struggling through the bugs, for a well earned evening at the bar afterward.

We would hang out on those benches and gossip to our hearts content while the guys pummeled the opposing team. The guys would give every at bat their all, run like there was no tomorrow around the bases, heckle the other teams. Afterward we would go together, arm & arm to the bar where we would continue to joke and talk and carry on until someone forced us out. (And then we would just go meet Jack or Joel at the Duck. God knows we never tired of that place.)

As the years have gone by, the guys heckle less and less. They still hit the ball hard, but not everyone runs as fast. Some have quit altogether, some only show on occasion. Us lady-friends, referred to as wives these days, don't go very often at all. The drinking traded for diapering, since the McDonald's cups now belong to our preschoolers.

Last night another wife and I decided to join in for a game. We brought the little guys, 'cause they love playing together just as much as their dads do.

We both couldn't resist the urge to giggle at this years competition. A bunch of scrawny fellows, all wearing their old HS tees. A group of ladies perched on the benches, a few showing in the final inning of the game. Not many over the age of 21. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if they had to raid a liquor cabinet at someone's parents house just to have a post-game brew.

My friend & I laughed at them (couldn't help it since one of our friends is the driving instructor at the HS our competitor went to, and we assume may have taught a good portion of the team to drive fairly recently).

Then we laughed at ourselves for becoming the old ladies of the game, surrounded by kids while our hubbies trotted around the bases. Discussing children's apparel and kindergarten, baby buggies and vacation plans. Long gone are our days of heavy drinking on a weeknight.

It made me wonder if they realize where they are headed.

After our games, we used to tell Jack & Joel we'd always stop in after for a drink, they smiled and said they'd see. When we all married we went in less and less, they said they knew it would happen. When the kids came and we hardly went at all, they said they'd seen it many times before. That it wouldn't be long until we stopped altogether.

They were right. We don't go there at all anymore. Drive by it with fond memories, but nothing more. On those bleachers and in that dirty dark bar we cemented bonds that guaranteed us all a lifetime of friendship. For that we are grateful.

I don't think any of us would trade places and go back. For all of the fun that it was, it was also a time of uncertainty for all of us. A time of reckless youth and nasty hangovers, unnecessary arguments and financial instability.

It was fun, but it's not so bad to be the old farts. The guys still win, even beat these young ones with the parks 10 run rule. Us ladies still gossip, only about kid things. We all still love a stiff drink, but over dinner. We're still great friends, even better than before.