When you first see these people they look as if they just
plummeted down the chimney, possibly lost a flour fight with the
Pillsbury Dough Boy or got plastered with a misguided fire
hose.
When you first see these people they look as if they just plummeted down the chimney, possibly lost a flour fight with the Pillsbury Dough Boy or got plastered with a misguided fire hose.
On some days they might resemble a creature from the black lagoon, a tumble weed blowing across the freeway or a Halloween scarecrow costume gone bad.
Other days you might find them roaming the outdoor and lawn department aisles at Home Depot because they know, and have memorized, exactly where every item is located, despite the misguided directions from the customer service center.
Most of them have attended the John Deere Lawn Driving Academy at Laguna Seca Raceway and now possess the ability to carve out a baseball insignia in the middle of any field despite the fact it’s midnight and the only light they have is the moon.
They treat a weed eater like they belong in the wild west with Wyatt Earp, brandishing it like a six shooter and knocking down any plant in a matter of seconds.
They’ve inhaled so much Roundup, gasoline, propane and lighter fluid fumes that lighting a match around them could create internal combustion and start a small fire that could only be put out by a Hazmat crew from the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
The array of hats they wear is comical and quite uncanny. One day it’s a Toro style hat with a mesh backing, the next it’s a NASCAR lid with some oil company propaganda and the next it’s a fitted Monster truck rally hat from 1961 that looks as if it was run over by every tractor imaginable.
They routinely drive a pickup truck that hasn’t had a car wash in 15 years, display a bumper sticker that reads, “My kid was an Honor Student at OSH Hardware,” and have a trailer pulling a porta potty that will be set up right next to the T-ball field because they know that age group must visit it after every sip of Gatorade.
Usually, they’re the first people to arrive at the field and the last to leave. And in the course of any given day they’ve unloaded a ton of dirt, had a chalk bag explode right before them and had a water sprinkler turn on in the midst of checking out a leaky valve, hence the reason they look like they slid down a chimney, confronted the doughboy or look wet.
They might not always fit the above descriptions but their mere presence means a great playing surface that every kid treasures to play on. And every coach and parent appreciate.
Yes, field maintenance directors are the unsung heroes of any youth baseball league and are MVPs in my book. The twinkle in their eye tells you they’re proud in what they accomplish day in and day out, especially when the kids take the field to a newly chalked batter’s box, a lush green infield and foul lines that are actually straight.
Rich Taylor is the owner, head instructor and CEO of California Pitching Academy. He can be reached at
rj********@ya***.com
.
