In the 1960s, baseball was king among kids sports. Little League, Babe Ruth League, all the way through college, it was still the #1 game that kids played and grew up with. This is a story from just one of those millions of kids, now a retired US Navy Chaplain and Pastor whose love for the game is lifelong. How do you learn to play this game? Who are the mentors along the way? Are they all from the baseball world? What happens when a lesson clicks? What girl that won all the footraces in elementary school in Rockford, Illinois was an inspiration? What do you learn playing 2-man baseball with the best line drive hitter in Florida? What are the times that necessity was the mother of invention? All of these things are part of my life. I was not the best among my peers. I was fortunate to have some tools. Pitching, running down fly balls, bunting, stealing bases, learning to slide without raspberries...every part of the game requires inspiration. Even a possible visit from Hayley Mills to your middle school can become a surprising part of growing out of insecurities into a man playing a kids game. You learn most about the game from the kids who do it a little better than you do. They are part and parcel of why this is a lifelong devotion. For whatever number of innings each day that you are on that field, from vacant lots to major league fields, there is no drama from your everyday life that can intrude and steal your joy. Your team, the other team, coaches, even how an umpire will see the slide when stealing home, it's all part of why this was the best part of being alive for a number of years. You played 'til the sun set or you got called home to dinner. Maybe a few times you even played under the lights. A Grim Reaper comes along in baseball. The last guy to take your returned uniform is always lurking. You just have to keep him at bay long enough to have a lifetime of memories.