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Letters

The ghosts of summers past

Cam Charron - Sports Editor

This was one of the better springs on record in my hometown. People would feel guilty staying in all day, thus the streets were busy, pub patios were packed, and the unemployed could find solitude and peace reading a book under the big oak tree in the park.

As a Little League baseball coach, it was great to finally have a year where not a single game or practice was rained out. As the hot day turned into a warm evening, the neighborhood would take advantage. More than 600 kids were signed up in the league, and on any given night, the majority of those would show up at the big park for one reason or another. The parents could come out and watch their kids play, while their siblings could play games beyond the outfield fence.

The best game the kids would play was a hybrid form of both baseball and tag involving a tennis ball. They never played it the same way, but you’d always see the same group of kids, usually aged six-through-13, out playing it. One day after a game I was sitting with a fellow coach watching the kids work off their sugar highs. “It’s depressing” he told me “that once the spring ends, you won’t see this anymore.” He was right.

During the baseball season, the kids could show up at the park because they know there’s an event on that night. In the summer months, regardless of how good the weather is, they won’t go out on their own or call their friends to organize a game. I can’t remember the last time I saw kids play a game of pick-up baseball or road hockey in the summer, and back when I was still in grade school, I can barely remember any time I got out with more than one or two friends to play a game.

For all the material goods we’ve bought in the past decade as a society, I can’t help but think that we lost some of what makes us special. It’s easy enough to stay occupied inside all day without having to go out to the park with a bat and ball and make some fun. Parents’ give their children cell phones to find out where they are at all times, as if they don’t trust that the neighbors are keeping them safe.

In the age now of Facebook and Twitter where we span friends across the globe, geography is no longer a factor in determining community. You can find somebody online with similar interests, but it’s not enough if you can’t throw a football with them in the front lawn.

Community is something that can’t be taken for granted, and every day when I’m shooting hoops alone in my back alley, I’m hoping that somebody will come out from one of the surrounding houses to join me.