Village Squire, 1979-07, Page 17Back when games
were fun
BY G.P.
The clock strikes seven. If it were a school day, the boy would
be snoring at 8:30. He would have to be hauled from bed, fed and
his nose pointed relunctantly in the direction of Fern Avenue
Public School. But this is the first day of the summer holidays
which stretch forever into the future of a ten year old. Is there
a red-blooded lad willing to waste a July day in bed after that
hour? Not me at any rate.
At ten I'm considered capable of crossing Roncevalles Avenue
with its streetcars. motor and horsedrawn vehicles, on the way to
our improvised ball diamond in High Park just north of Catfish
Pond. After a hurried breakfast and a "see you, Mom," I'm off
to join the gang. I'll only be one of a score or more of kids zeroing
in like a nectar -hungry swarm of bees, for the day's play.
Tim. Butch and Pete have already arrived, "Hi, John," Butch
salutes me. We got enough now for a game of French Cricket.
The day's fun begins.
A word for those who never played that game with a minimum
of four involved. The batter stands with his feet together, bat in
hand and tries to keep from being hit below the knees with the
ball. Three to five lads take position on the circumference of an
imaginary circle about fifteen feet away and throw the ball
underhand. trying to hit the batter below the knees. The
successful player then takes his turn at bat.
So we play for maybe ten minutes or more until the twins,
Harry and Ken arrive. Then the game changes to knocking out
flies.
More lads straggle into view. Harry who has done a quick
nose -count suddenly yells, "Let's play ball! One up!"
The chorus starts as we swing over to a game of Scrub. "Two
up! Three up! Catcher! Pitcher!" And so on until all the guys
have been accounted for.
On occasion a game of Scrub would start with two or three of
the best batters in and field shorthanded. The second
baseman would double for a non-existant short-stop. There
would be but two fielders. The latter would be run ragged trying
to do two players' work at once.
More lads would drift into view. A sudden cry of. "First
Captain! Second Captain! Scrub would be abandoned for the day
and sides chosen. Generally we were happy to play with as few
as seven to a team. If there was an odd man one of two things
could happen. If it were Peewee, Shorty or me, as I was but an
enthusiastic duffer at ball, we'd be regarded as half a boy and go,
to the captain who had second choice. The alternative was for the
odd man to take over for a time as umpire. One of the "In" team
would back up the catcher as we had no wire backstop.
Often if the sides were even we'd shout at a passing stranger,
"Hey, Mister! Wanta ump for us?" Even sides and no passerby
saw one of the "in" team call the shots. It was a matter of honour
to be impartial.
While I never recall a fight marring the day's play there were
plenty of arguments. A close call at second might stir the
following. "Gocha, Charlie!"
"Like heck you did. My foot hit the base before you tagged
me."
July 1979. Village Squire 15