On a clear day in Clearwater
KLOK! It’s a sharp sound, yet vaguely pleasing to the ear. It’s only momentary, but very distinct, with the fleeting hint of an echo. There’s no other sound quite like it in sports. It is sound born of a speeding baseball being met, squarely, by a speeding wooden bat coming hard the other way. This sound instantly commands the attention of all present, for they know what it means— the instantaneous reversal of the baseball’s flight, in an opposite direction, at a new and higher speed. It reports a momentary and maximal conquest of hitter over pitcher, which is quite uncommon. Through thousands of pitches, it might only occur once every few weeks.
KLOK! That’s the sound we heard in the bottom half of the 9th inning at a Philadelphia Phillies spring game in Clearwater Florida. This big blast by the Phillies’ Ryan Jackson tied the score at 6 all, sending the Phillies faithful home a little happier than they would have been had it not happened. This being spring, the game was called complete after 9 frames, leaving the score in a 6-6 knot. Unsatisfying, sure, but much better than a loss.Of course, that’s only the fans’ perspective. The team itself uses spring contests to work on various aspects of play and to try out new players in certain situations. For them, victory is secondary– desirable, yes, but not of prime importance.
A dramatic home run for the home team was a nice way to finish a fine day at Bright House Field in Clearwater, Florida.This charming little park (capacity 8500) is 14 years old, which is middle-aged for a ballpark in the curious present day of sports economics. This stadium, however, brings us the energy and joy more typical of a brand new arena. It is well-designed and well-maintained. Our situation was improved even more by our generous host, Charlie Allcott, an old friend from decades past who invited us to join him in his reserved seats. We did so. What a treat!
Everywhere I turned, there were people enjoying a day at the park. A leisurely stroll around the outer edges of the park allowed me to meet a goodly number of these folks, each with a story to tell. An older fellow in the in left field stands was sporting a t-shirt promoting scrapple, the notorious Philadelphia area dish made of pork scraps and touted as “the other gray meat”.
There was a couple on the sunny outfield berm whose marital harmony was gently challenged by the fact that they individually root for today’s opposing teams. Three older gentlemen in right field re-lived some ancient Phillie history with me, shaking their heads grimly about the team’s late season collapse in the summer of 1964. And two college kids on spring break drove two hours from Orlando to take in this game. One of them, an ecology major, wears a Phillies jersey of former outfielder Shane Victorino, still known fondly to her as “the Flying Hawaiian”.
In the right field concession, they offer me something called a bacon- covered pork stick for $8. They tell me it’s a popular item. I had no stomach for the item or for the price.
But the best moment I saw was the last. A group of Phillies Phaithful (the ubiquitous word play here becomes a bit un-phortunate after a while) is happily streaming to the parking lot. A young boy in the group holds a treasured prize from his visit to BrightHouse Field this day – a baseball he retrieved from today’s batting practice, made even better by several autographs from major league ballplayers. He shows the signatures to us, carefully, handling the ball with solemn reverence. I know from experience that he will remember this day fondly for the rest of his life.
All in all, ’twas a phenomenal day to in Phillie-land.