Just got in looking to play

Added: Kelton Lombardo - Date: 20.02.2022 09:18 - Views: 48551 - Clicks: 6883

He needed to play catch, stat. So his wife, Alice, more adept at social media, posted a note on Nextdoor, the neighborhood app. He is a former high school and college pitcher and is looking for a catcher or someone who knows how to throw a baseball. In a world with its cover torn off, the idea of a man in his eighth decade yearning for a baseball buddy seemed to spark something in people. By confessing his own need, Frank had unwittingly tapped into a longing in others.

Wednesday at Cole Park near the tennis courts? He is not some husk of a man aching for a life he never had.

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A retired civil engineer, he plays golf and tennis, spends summers in Michigan, flies a Piper Archer, checks items off the honey-do list. He has a son, a daughter, a stepson and three grandchildren. The game got a hold of Frank Miller in the early s, when he pitched for his high school team in Greenville, N.

He has visited his enthusiasm upon Alice, his third wife, who knew nothing about baseball when they met 10 years ago. On Wednesday, he and Alice showed up early at Cole Park, Frank outfitted in a lime green mask, jeans and a Texas Rangers jersey and cap.

Earlier in the day, he had used Gorilla Glue to close a tear in the thumb. Frank kidded him about his priorities. Indeed, in Washington at that moment, House members were speaking gravely about enemies, foreign and domestic.

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One by one, entering the park from all directions, about 10 more people arrived, many with mitts tucked under their arms. A bearded man in his 30s.

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Three boys from the North Dallas High School team and the staff member who had encouraged them to come. The players exchanged hellos and elbow bumps, then formed two lines facing each other in the sunny space between oak trees. The nearby thwacking of tennis balls was ed by the slow, steady rhythm of balls popping into mitts, like the last few popcorn kernels exploding in the microwave. At 74, Frank short-armed his throws a bit, yet managed to deliver the ball with impressive zip. One of his tosses skipped off the glove of an older man, who then hobbled after the ball, threw it back to Frank on a couple of bounces, and shrugged.

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Soon they took a break, their arms wobbly, but the day had gained its own momentum. A few steps away, two strangers separated in age by 46 years lobbed a ball back and forth across roughly the same of feet. Chris Barber, 26, who had been prompted to attend by his mother, arrived at the park in an uncertain moment in life. He is unemployed and searching, itching to get to California to find his future. His throwing partner, David Boldrick, is 72, happy and settled, a mechanical engineer enjoying the slow sunset of his working life.

Pretty soon they stopped throwing. They stood and talked. The players threw for an hour in perfect, springlike sunshine. Finally, their arms sore and the shadows lengthening, they circled up, wrote their names in the notebook Frank had brought, and promised to meet again soon. It was time to go. The Millers had an appointment to get the coronavirus vaccine. A steady flow of messages followed. Mazzarella was asked why he came. Boldrick asked Barber about California.

Just got in looking to play

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