Job
Application for Sports Person
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dear Editor,
I recently
spotted an opening for a sports person for the newspaper. I didn’t read the
description closely but am confident I could quickly polish and perfect my qualifications
for the position.
When I was
nine or ten years old, before we moved to Montana, my Dad took me to a
Cardinal’s game at the stadium in Louisville, Kentucky, a skip, a jump and a
slide across the Ohio River from where we lived. The game was at night and the
field was well lighted. I did wonder if the players had a hard time keeping an
eye on the baseball when it flew through the shadows. I noticed that while
sitting up in the bleachers. I am most observant.
The hot dog
with mustard and relish was fantastic, as was the Ne-hi Orange soda. That was
the first time I ate a hot dog in a bun. At home we had wieners cut up in a can
of Van Camp’s Pork and Beans, which had very little pork. It is not the same
thing. That is neither here nor there, but demonstrates that I can fluff up a
piece when I need to do so. I still like a good hot dog.
In high
school I attended a few football games on nights, badly lit, when the snow blew
in circles and it was always bitter cold. We girls huddled in a cluster on the
bleachers. We were there to watch boys, not a pigskin. In later life I watched
one Rose Bowl Game on television. Same story with better snacks.
Basketball
was more my speed. I will say the gym was always stinky and noisy. Always.
Unfortunately, we did not have girls’ basketball back then. I found basketball
more to my understanding.
My Dad used
to referee girls’ basketball, back in our little community in Indiana. I
suspect he refed with more of an eye for the girls than for the basketball, but
what do I know. He did say that it was a hoot and that the girls fought harder
than the guys.
In the
spring, we had track. I have a rudimentary beginning knowledge of track events.
In my youth, all sports were for boys. We did not have a baseball team.
We did not
have girls’ sports of any kind back in our day. I still have residual
bitterness that the boys had full seasons of sports and we had zero, zilch,
nothing. I will be vigilant in reporting girl’s’ and women’s teams equally with
boys’ and men’s teams.
I would have
been good at baseball. I have read everything W.P. Kinsella wrote. Everything.
I will say “Shoeless Joe” is better than “Field of Dreams”, but I confess to a
book bias. Still, I enjoyed “Field of Dreams”.
Yep. I’m reckon
I am fairly good at baseball. I assisted the director as well as played the
role of Rose in “Bleacher Bums”. Go Cubbies.
Of course, I must climb to the top of a steep
learning curve. The world of sports no longer revolves around football,
baseball and basketball. Now even in small communities we have wrestling,
boxing, soccer, softball, swimming, dance, gymnastics, volleyball, hockey,
curling, tennis, golf and even that strange sport where you either catch or
throw (?) the ball from a funny basket on a stick.
I am up for
the challenge. In every community, there is a café with a round table back in
the corner in which around ten in the morning, several retired men gather for
coffee and confab. These men know all there is to know about sports. They know
the characteristics of every team and of every player. They know. Ask them.
They know.
If I hang
out at an adjacent table and take notes, in no time at all, I will be up to
speed in sports.
In addition
I would be able to address such often ignored but important things as
sportswear, equipment, community support, snacks, and the spectators, without
whom, sports would flounder.
When would
you like me to start?
Sondra
Ashton
HDN: Looking
out my back door
October,
season changing quickly
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
No comments:
Post a Comment