Well beat the drum, and hold the phoneThe sun came out todayWe’re born again,There’s new grass on the fieldI can’t hear those words on the radio (from the John Fogerty song, “Centerfield,”) without recalling my home neighborhood and the first game of a new season at the old ball diamond.We played in a vacant lot behind the local tavern. I still remember the day the big guys dug logs into the ground so that the cut ends stuck up just an inch or two and served as bases. Before the first season was done, our baserunning had worn sand pits
