So, you’re curious about my time with Tri Valley baseball, eh? Let me tell you, it was quite the journey, and I figured I’d jot down how it all went, from the get-go to, well, where I am with it now.
Getting My Feet Wet
It all started pretty innocently. I heard folks talking about local baseball, the “Tri Valley” league specifically, and thought, “Why not?” I’d played a bit way back when, and the idea of getting out there, maybe meeting some new people, sounded decent. So, I went online, found a sign-up page – a bit clunky, but hey, it’s local sports, not Silicon Valley tech.
I filled out the forms, paid the fee, and waited. Eventually, I got an email assigning me to a team. No tryouts for my old-timer level, thankfully. Just got thrown onto a roster. First practice was a bit of a scramble. Dug out my old glove, which smelled like history, and bought a new bat, because my old one was probably a safety hazard by now.
The Real Tri Valley Experience
Now, “Tri Valley” sounds all nice and unified, right? Wrong. It felt like three or four different valleys all trying to play by slightly different rules, or at least different interpretations. One week, we’d drive all the way to one end of the “valley” for a game, the next, it was a 45-minute trek in the opposite direction. My gas bill definitely noticed.
And the organization? Let’s just say it was… organic. Schedules would change last minute. Umpires sometimes showed up late, or not at all, leading to some heated “discussions” on who was going to call balls and strikes. It was usually the guy who yelled loudest.
I remember showing up for one game, all ready to go, only to find out it had been rescheduled. No email, no call. Just a bunch of us standing around an empty field. That was fun. We ended up just tossing the ball around ourselves.
The teams themselves were a mixed bag. Some guys were super serious, like they were one step away from the pros. Others were just there to get out of the house. You’d see everything:
- Guys with top-of-the-line gear.
- Guys using bats that looked like they’d been through a war.
- A lot of arguments about rules that nobody really knew.
One time, we played a team, and their pitcher, this fella must’ve been in his late 50s, had this crazy wind-up. Took him about five minutes per pitch. Games would drag on forever. But, you know, he was out there doing his thing.
What I Took Away From It
So, after a couple of seasons of this, what did I learn? Well, I learned that my arm isn’t what it used to be, that’s for sure. I also learned that “community sports” can be a bit of a circus. You deal with all sorts of personalities, all sorts of organizational quirks.
Did I become a local legend? Nope. Did our team win the championship? Not even close. We mostly just tried to have a good time, and sometimes we actually succeeded. There were moments, you know? A good hit, a nice catch, sharing a laugh with a teammate after a particularly ridiculous play. Those were the bits I held onto.
I’m not actively playing in that league right now. Decided to give my weekends back to myself for a bit. But it was an experience, that’s for sure. If you’re thinking about diving into something like Tri Valley baseball, just go in with your eyes open. Expect a bit of chaos, bring your patience, and maybe a good sense of humor. You’ll probably need it. For me, I mostly logged it as another chapter in life’s little adventures.
