The seasons roll by. Vivid memories of younger, sometimes better days flash through my mind like an old super 8 home movie.
By this time of year, spring and summer baseball leagues are wrapped up. It's tournament time. They used to call these teams All-Stars. It meant something to be on one. For a month or so, you got play with, instead of against, guys that tried to hurt you all spring.
Rivalries were forgotten. Attitudes, set aside. We had a new, common opponent. All was right in the world.
It was a second season. Before travel ball was a thing, this was the only chance to keep playing real baseball. With tougher opponents, we had to step up our games. Good players tried to be great. Some great players became legends.
When we got to high school, we played against these same guys, Some of the names I recall: Franklin County - Tobitt, Holman. Shelbyville - Dial, Thompson. Columbia - Painter, Tullahoma - Morrow, Hargrove, Williams, Welch, Key, Brown, Smith, Hollinshead, Bailey, Tuck, Bivins, Prosser. Dekalb County - Page.
These guys, and a bunch of others, brought their best game. Our Manchester team had to play a perfect game to beat them.
Now, We go to the Waffle House about once a week. Because of one menu option, my baseball memories are stirred, scatterred and smothered. Right there, whispering every weekend warrior's name...is the All-Star breakfast.
