It’s that time of year again… Mississippi high school playoff baseball is in full swing, and my hometown George County Rebels are still in the mix, still chasing another state championship!
That by itself is something that makes me take pause as a former Rebel, because just having a winning season was beyond our comprehension when I proudly wore the maroon and a gold back in the mid 80s.
Playoff contention was not in the realm of things that were deemed as “possible” in those days. The same could be said for the perceived chances of a kid playing baseball beyond high school, or advancing to the level of professional baseball, or achieving the unfathomable achievement of playing in the big leagues. That was then. Things change.
I was asked to throw out the first pitch of the first playoff game last week. I both proudly and humbly accepted the invitation. Arriving at the high school…
I parked well away from the field, because there was nowhere close to park in the parking lot, that was so full that it looked like a car dealership.
I walked through two large and ornate entrance gates, then under a covered walkway to arrive at the back wall of the press box, where there are large name plaques of former players and the professional organizations, they have signed with over the years. There are 15 total, so far, of which I am one. Justin Steele of the Cubs is our sole big-league player, again, so far.
I made my way around the stadium that now seats hundreds, which is a far cry from the lawn chair by the fence seating our parents lined up for, as there were no bleachers, at least when I was a freshman.
The playing surface of the field was pristine, and the dugouts were not only “dug out” but even had a roof on them and electricity! Another large step forward from the roofless dugouts and playing surface that also doubled as the high school football teams practice field.
There was the large concession stand, the indoor pitching and hitting facility, the dressing room, banners of past winning seasons and accolades on the outfield wall, music pumping through the pregame sound system and a buzz in the air that took me back to days gone by. It was just awesome to see all of this in the community I called home…. #TheCounty as we affectionately call our piece of Mississippi.
After throwing out the first pitch, a strike, I made my way through the packed stadium to the press-box overlooking the field, donned some headphones and clocked some time on WRBE, the local radio station for more decades than I have been alive.
Taking it all in from above, the field, the lights, the fans, the team, the banners, the excitement in the air, my hometown team in the playoffs. So much, from what was so little. Built year by year, piece by piece, by a community that cares.
Baseball may just be a game to some, but it is also a platform. A platform to bring a community together, an opportunity for coaches to pour into young men, a chance to gear down and enjoy this life we have been given.
We often don’t realize how far we have come until we look back, way back, at where we started. Applies to life. Applies to Faith. Applies to baseball.
