Hefty Matters and Little Bobby represent boys from my youth for sure. I played LL from 5 yrs old until I made the HS team. Many fond memories of similar moments in our small town leagues in San Diego and then Darien, CT. Thanks Ben!
Weren’t there some really strong teams from Darien in the LLWS? I seem to remember one with the kid who went on to play college and professional hockey.
I made a really great diving catch when I was playing 3rd base, maybe around age 8. It was my sporting moment of glory.
I've since won numerous jiu jitsu tournaments, including some at the national level (for my age group, mind you), but nothing ever came close to that feeling of sliding along the ground, glove outstretched. It was my moment of glory.
I also saw a kid try to catch a ball that took a bad hop. His front tooth was cut in half.
Those memories last forever. During the Summer of '79, I played (for yet another season) for a team named Drug Fair (as does Little Bobby Jones in the story). The best team in the league was . . . McKinney Oil (as in the story). I don't think we won a single regular season game. But each team made the playoffs, and so we squared off against McKinney Oil (worst v. first). Babe Ruth himself must have blessed that field, for on that day, we beat them. It was complete bedlam on the field, and word spread quickly to the other teams. The playoffs were now wide open. We lost in the next round, but it didn't matter. We took down McKinney Oil. There was a HUGE kid on a completely different team who launched moon shot after moon shot. Nice kid who should have been playing for the high school. He was my inspiration for Hefty Matters.
Lots of rhyming in between our formative years! If I have this right, you're probably about 5 years older than me (I graduated high school in '93 for reference).
My team went from worst to first from one season to the next, no doubt because of my incredible catch inspiring everyone's performance. I played shortstop that year, and had a pretty good glove/hustle/ethic.
I think our team was Banker's Trust (became NCNB, which became Bank of America (I think, don't quote me). The year before that was a local auto shop whose name was (and still is, apparently) Lonnie Roberts Auto Service.
Awesome. Class of 1989. I love how local stores get involved with sponsoring sports -- baseball, hockey, hoops, you name it. There's something pure about it. Our uniforms were yellow and black, and, of course, said Drug Fair in cheap letters on our caps and uniforms. I would give anything to have that hat. Somewhere along the line, I got a pair of cleats. They were white with a red design on the sign. The cleats were hard rubber. Nothing was better than digging those cleats into the batter's box. I felt like Willie Randolph, the Yankees SS who was my favorite player. I used to clean my cleats after games, but there was some dirt I just couldn't get off. Those marks were badges of honors.
I remember those cleats. That was probably the first time I "geared up" for a sport, come to think of it - where you have to purchase a specific set of equipment in order to do the thing, beyond just a ball and glove.
I also remember Big League Chew, Astro pops, and other treats at the hot dog stands. I can still see one of the fields we played on in my mind's eye.
Hefty Matters and Little Bobby represent boys from my youth for sure. I played LL from 5 yrs old until I made the HS team. Many fond memories of similar moments in our small town leagues in San Diego and then Darien, CT. Thanks Ben!
Thanks, Dee. LL was priceless. I wrote this comment earlier.
https://heftymatters.substack.com/p/the-all-time-zenith-of-little-league/comment/39821491?r=7gpc6&utm_medium=ios
Weren’t there some really strong teams from Darien in the LLWS? I seem to remember one with the kid who went on to play college and professional hockey.
There were some good teams. We were the Police team, sponsored by the local gendarme 😉
I made a really great diving catch when I was playing 3rd base, maybe around age 8. It was my sporting moment of glory.
I've since won numerous jiu jitsu tournaments, including some at the national level (for my age group, mind you), but nothing ever came close to that feeling of sliding along the ground, glove outstretched. It was my moment of glory.
I also saw a kid try to catch a ball that took a bad hop. His front tooth was cut in half.
Those memories last forever. During the Summer of '79, I played (for yet another season) for a team named Drug Fair (as does Little Bobby Jones in the story). The best team in the league was . . . McKinney Oil (as in the story). I don't think we won a single regular season game. But each team made the playoffs, and so we squared off against McKinney Oil (worst v. first). Babe Ruth himself must have blessed that field, for on that day, we beat them. It was complete bedlam on the field, and word spread quickly to the other teams. The playoffs were now wide open. We lost in the next round, but it didn't matter. We took down McKinney Oil. There was a HUGE kid on a completely different team who launched moon shot after moon shot. Nice kid who should have been playing for the high school. He was my inspiration for Hefty Matters.
Lots of rhyming in between our formative years! If I have this right, you're probably about 5 years older than me (I graduated high school in '93 for reference).
My team went from worst to first from one season to the next, no doubt because of my incredible catch inspiring everyone's performance. I played shortstop that year, and had a pretty good glove/hustle/ethic.
I think our team was Banker's Trust (became NCNB, which became Bank of America (I think, don't quote me). The year before that was a local auto shop whose name was (and still is, apparently) Lonnie Roberts Auto Service.
Awesome. Class of 1989. I love how local stores get involved with sponsoring sports -- baseball, hockey, hoops, you name it. There's something pure about it. Our uniforms were yellow and black, and, of course, said Drug Fair in cheap letters on our caps and uniforms. I would give anything to have that hat. Somewhere along the line, I got a pair of cleats. They were white with a red design on the sign. The cleats were hard rubber. Nothing was better than digging those cleats into the batter's box. I felt like Willie Randolph, the Yankees SS who was my favorite player. I used to clean my cleats after games, but there was some dirt I just couldn't get off. Those marks were badges of honors.
I remember those cleats. That was probably the first time I "geared up" for a sport, come to think of it - where you have to purchase a specific set of equipment in order to do the thing, beyond just a ball and glove.
I also remember Big League Chew, Astro pops, and other treats at the hot dog stands. I can still see one of the fields we played on in my mind's eye.
I'm not even a baseball fan but this story had me enraptured! Keep on writing, Ben, one day I'll be looking forward to your novel!
Sandy, thank you so very much. That means the world to me. Thank you.