The game was interrupted by a baby in left field. I have no idea how she got there but once she toddled to the sidelines our softball battle continued.This was yesterday's game between Miami's old guys ("The Young Viejos") and a group of much younger men and women representing the local art community. It was one of many events sponsored by this month's O, Miami Poetry Festival.
The players
Young Viejo Augustin Gonzalez, 95, in a pensive moment.
As softball games go this one was a little different. Batters had to recite a poem before they stepped up to the plate.
Ron shares one of his originals One Young Viejo had his bat marked, "Ode Warrior".
The poetry people gave us these beautiful book bags and they got
autographed softballs from us.
I played a little but my main job was to emcee the show The ringmaster with his coach
and to occasionally hawk peanuts and crackerjacks.
The teams were evenly matched, some players were very good and some (like me) could use more practice. Us Viejos marveled at the speed of "the kids". We had forgotten how fast our feet could move fifty years ago. Rarely did our throws get to first base before the runner.
We had much more experience as we play twice a week.This rare mixing of generations was a delight, like a group of grandfathers happily going at it with their upstart grands.
Popular singer Cuci Amador threw out the first pitch. Another celebrity's sibling, Mangohead (the king's brother), tossed the second.
By the end of the game the Young Viejos were ahead, 9-8, and the team was presented with the winner's trophy, a golden chamber pot. It could become an annual affair.
By the game's conclusion everyone was smiling. No one cared who won. On a perfect April afternoon we were laughing, playing ball, and hearing some pretty good poetry.
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