This is real, pure baseball -- to a T

The infield is a mob scene. There is no outfield, no pitcher, no catcher. And yet, it is the most pure baseball you will ever watch.

Grandparents like to relive their own childhoods through their grandchildren, but in this case, something new has been added to childhood. It is T-ball. It is for 5- and 6-year-olds who are starting from scratch in the great American pastime. We have no memories about it because it is a relatively recent addition to the childhood scene.

Our grandson, Joey, who just turned 6, decided to try T-ball after soccer season ended. So we all got ready to learn a lot of new things. Just about everyone plays infield, with two kids on the pitcher's mound (not to pitch, of course) and the rest of the crowd, usually about 10 or 11 boys and girls, placed in an impenetrable line from first to third base.

The baseball (a slightly softer version) is placed on a tee and after a coach helps with some practice swings, the batter is free to go at it. At first, the tee takes a beating but gradually the aim improves and the ball is struck, usually on the ground, although flies are hit now and then. There are also coaches at first and third, not only to coach runners but to coach fielders, too.

Concentration is often in short supply, and a kid who doesn't pay attention to where the ball is can occasionally find that a ball has connected with his noggin. If tears ensue, a time out is called for some TLC from both the nearest coach and the player's parent. Then, play resumes. There are also time outs for shoe-tying, a skill most of the players have yet to master.

At this age, the girls play just as intensely as the boys -- in some cases, even more so. Regulation baseball trimmings are there, from batting helmets to an on-deck position to a dugout where each player has his own cold drink, glove and bat. Coaches give pep talks and there are lineups, at the start for the Little League pledge and at the end for team high-fives.

Parents watch intently every move their little darlings make or don't make. It seems as if grandparents cheer the loudest. When a fly ball is caught, it is a supreme triumph and brings about a roar from the crowd. When a ball is fielded and thrown to first base in time, more wild cheering breaks out. In this age group, such triumphs are rare -- at least, so far this season.

Baseball talents are as yet undeveloped. So batters have to be reminded to run to first after a hit, and baserunners have to be prompted to move on. But that's part of the fun.

Mark Twain wrote about Innocents Abroad, but these games are "Innocents on the Diamond." Innocence abounds. Only three innings are played, and each team bats around each time. No score is kept, the main object being to get through each inning and have a learning experience. Fielding can be rough and tumble, as with that many kids in the infield, the players, many times, are vying with each other for the ball and not worrying at all about the runner who is on the way to first base. The coaches, regardless of which team they are coaching, shout encouragement to all concerned.

The parents, at this stage, are innocent, too, and while we fear the parental disputes that may arise in the coming years, we hope today's news stories will not repeat themselves. The players, too, are not the temperamental millionaires that the highly talented among them might eventually become. There is a payoff, though. It is a hot dog and a drink at the end of the game, satisfying remuneration for such diamond neophytes.

The games, in a sense, take us back before the time of scheming sports agents and greedy owners who have lengthened the pro season to the point that frostbite threatens at each end. The shorter seasons are one fond memory we oldtimers cherish.

I didn't know just what to expect of T-ball, but it has turned out to be a delight, full of both laughs and nostalgia. But then again, I'm sure I'd watch Joey, even on the tiddlywinks team.

-- James Pettican, a retired journalist, lives in Palm Harbor.

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