Where Beisbol Reigns


A few weeks back, just prior to the Cocle / Herrera playoff contest, I had the privelege of playing ball with a couple of the kids from town. They were eleven, and had a ratty old softball and a broken bat, but the flat where the patron saint day festival was held served as an awesome field.
I ended up seeing those same kids at ESL the day before we left, and since it was my last day in town, the boys and I were adamant about getting a game together. Isaac walked around the rest of the day holding four fiingers in the air, signaling first pitch time. I caught a bus to Penonome and picked up a few baseballs for the game, and got back with just enough time to don my Cocle jersey and run up to the flat. They were absolutely delighted to see the goods I had brought, and I was delighted to see that almost thirty kids had shown up. We played for hours, all the while trading words for the different terms and names of the equipment. I got to learn each kid by name, and it was so sad to say goodbye. The cherry on top was the sun setting over the mountains in strait-away centerfield. I wish I could go back and do it all over again, only this time I would trade every day in the park for time with those kids in town. It truly was one of the most memorable times of my life.

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