During a recent visit to Bridgeport City Park, I walked by the old Little League field. I kind of stopped in my tracks. It was once such a lively place, but now looks so small and abandoned. The scoreboard - which 20 years ago tallied hits, runs and innings and brought cheers of excitement from the big audiences that gathered – was so still and so weather-worn.

 

My family, like many others in this community, spend countless hours at the ballfield. Evening after evening, we showed up sporting our Prescription Shop “Chop Shop” T-shirts with Jeffrey’s name and number proudly displayed on the back.

 

We ate lots of dinners – and worked lots of hours – at the concession stand. While loading hotdogs with all the fixings, popping popcorn or counting out bubblegum, we would listen carefully to the announcer when games got tight. The play-by-play was delivered via the sound system from the upper floor of the concession stand. There was usually a young protégé helping, his little voice mimicking the voice antics of the pros.

 

Jeffrey mostly caught, but pitched and played various other positions on occasion. He could slam that ball too. There was hooping and hollaring every time he or any of the other guys hit one over the fence. Whoever had the most at end of the season was the Home Run King. 

 

Jeff coached Jeffrey’s team. Those boys spent a lot of time down at that field. I remember when Dea went to prom one year, she and her date came to the field to see her dad and get pictures taken with him; they in full formal attire and he in his T and ball cap.

 

Brittany adopted a litter of kittens one year and we told her she could keep one; well, maybe two. She packed those cute little furballs in a handled basket and took them down to the Little League field. She was cute and they were too. She did pretty good with our friends at the field. She found good homes for three, I believe. And she brought home three. Yes, she kept them. 

 

Jacob was just a little tot during our Little League days. We would bring his tricycle and toy trucks and he would play in that giant dirt pile with other little brothers of ball players. In that dirt pile, he made some lifelong friends, including Chapin who spent lots of time at our house through the years.

 

The seasons went on and on. After regular games were over, Allstars started. Then there was a whole new batch of T-shirts for all our family members and we traveled and bonded with all the other families. The dads really bonded over their sons and the game they all loved.  That group of boys, along with several others, brought home a state championship. Those were some great memories. And it’s funny how one glimpse of the abandoned Little League field brought them all flooding back.

 

I know things sometimes need to change. And we are fortunate to have Bridgeport Recreation Complex, such a beautiful baseball facility here in our city, which draws players and families from all over the region. There, families are making their own memories which they will cherish for years to come. 

 

But I, for one, would still like to see some action at the old Little League field.