Crack of the bat.

I love baseball. It's a civilized game. Truly American, with all of our foibles and problems. Popularly attributed to Abner Doubleday it is still a game that we spend lots of time, money, and effort on.

I wouldn't give a double-damn for any small town that didn't have a baseball park for the kids to play ball on a summer afternoon.

One local high school team is sponsoring a tournament, and your scribe is tasked with working it today. In a couple of hours, I have to pull on my boots and trek out to the local park.



Bringhurst Field is home to a number of teams, including the Alexandria Aces, our local farm club. A number of high school teams call Bringhurst home and scheduling is at a premium. All of the high school teams have to be finished at the field by May 15th, which is the Ace's opener for the summer. I was told last night that LSUA is starting a ball club and will use Bringhurst as their home field until they can construct a field of their own.

Bringhurst sits adjacent to the Alexandria Zoo. Batters know that if they shank a foul ball over the 3rd base bleachers, they run the danger of killing an ostrich. However, if they can slap a home run over the left field wall, it might land in the lion pen. It is truly cool to watch a ball sail over that wall, then hear a lion roar. No one tries to collect those home run balls.

So, I'll spend my day at the ball park.