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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
I found this on a Rawlings ball glove I bought for my grandson a few years ago. I think it is especially meaningful to those of us who's brain is still young enough to remember how to play the game, but our bodies are old enough to tell the brain to forget it. Hope it brings back as many good memories for some of you as it has for my brothers and my Dad and myself.
What is a Baseball Glove
A baseball glove is a beginning and an ending,a
child's first sure step towards adulthood, and an
adult's final, lingering hold on youth. It is a promise
and a memory.
A baseball glove is the dusty badge of belonging: the
tanned and oiled mortor of team and camaraderie.
In its creases and scuffs lodge sunburned afternoons
freckled with thrills, the exited hum of competition,
cheers that burst like skyrockets.
A baseball glove is Babe Ruth, Stan Musial, Mickey
Mantle, Jackie Robinson, Johnny Bench, Ozzie Smith
and a thousand-and-one names and moments strung
like white and crimson banners in the vast stadium
of memory.
A baseball glove is the leather of adventure, worthy
successor to the cowboy's holster, the trooper's
saddle and the buckskin laces of the frontier scout.
It is combat, heroics, and victory...a place to smack
a fist or snuff a rally.
Above all, a baseball glove is the union of family
recreation and togetherness: a union beyond
language, creed, or color
The Rawlings Sporting Goods Company, 1991

1,461 Posts
That is awesome

I am almost 36 and still play slowpitch softball in several leagues in Northern Indiana. :dizzy: I have often thought of giving up and quiting, but I think that it keeps me younger (feeling) and in shape (not sure what shape, pear shaped maybe), but I have a brother that is 41 and is still playing, so I have to beat him. :bash:

Someday, it will only be a memory...:bloos:

Premium Member
4,231 Posts
Thanks dleslie...I have so many great memories of playing baseball and later on softball...nothing like being on the field on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon with the smell of recently mown grass in the air, the flags waving in the wind, and the pop of that first pitch of the game hitting the catcher's mitt.

lilkrou...don't give it up until they have to drag you off the field brother...I played until the back and knees couldn't take it anymore...I just gave up playing in a basketball league a couple of years ago...the mind is willing but the body is weak!!!

Gotta' head up to Wal-Mart now and sniff a baseball glove...see ya' later!!!
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