“Invisible man on first!” How many of us guys remember calling this back when we were boys? We’d play baseball with fewer than the regular number of kids. Sometimes there were just two of us, one for each team. We would keep track of how many invisible teammates we had and where they were. “Invisible men on first and second.” And if you lost track you couldn’t always count on the other guy(s0 to remember for you. Unless you got it wrong, of course. Then they knew exactly where your invisible men were.
We had rules for our invisible men. Each one would advance a base as we did. When they got to home plate we’d score a run. And you couldn’t tag them out. You could only tag out the actual guys who were playing.
“Eenahittah! Eenahittah! Swing!” That taunt was reserved more for when we had a full compliment of guys on each team. We’d holler that to shake the batter up. “Eenahittah” meant “he’s no hitter.” You learned to ignore the chatter from the other team and just focus on what you were doing.
“Don’t swing for the fences!” Coaches would call that to batters who tried to hit home runs. Very often when the batters did, one of the outfielders would catch the ball with ease. We called that an easy out. Even today some fans will holler to the players, “Don’t swing for the fences!” when they keep trying to hit home runs.
We were taught that it was better to just get on base and advance your runners that try to be the hero and get a home run. That was part of being a team player. That lesson stuck through life in different areas.
I wonder how many of today’s boys have these same memories. Do they play team sports with just a handful of friends, or even just one friend? Are they allowed to taunt the other players like that? And what about not swinging for the fences?
Granted, baseball was just one sport that taught us life lessons and forced us to use our imaginations. Soccer was another good one. I played that too. But there was something special about baseball.
If you’re a kid, get out there and have some fun the old fashioned way. If you’re a dad, show your son how to play the game the way we used to. Those are life lessons worth teaching and learning. And remember: walk it off.