The Pitcher

Before I fell asleep a picture came into my mind. It was Wayne pitching as he did in many fast-pitch softball games.

I don't know what brings such a picture to mind unbidden, but once it has come, I can bring it back again and again, which I did. And I remembered how good he was, how fast. He had three pitches, said my son. That's pretty good in softball.

In Santa Monica, we had a really good team--Wayne, Fred, Sam Wise, Phil Cardon, Don Taylor, Jimmy Cook, LJ, and others--all young and fast and good ball players. They went to regionals, which always sounds really good.

Here in Idaho our ward team was also good, but it wasn't the only good team. Those Middleton guys and the Kuna guys were tough to beat and it was always a real joy to win against them.

Women had teams, too. I played for years, and once in a while pitched. I was a good hitter, but not such a great pitcher. Mostly I played first base.

Slow pitch softball became the official game of the church at some point for men and women. I played it a few times, but I never liked that game to play or to watch, with its no lead-off rules and its extra outfielder. Fast pitch had excitement and, well, fast pitching.

I can still see Wayne out there rocking a little bit before pitching the ball, that fast windmill delivery of his.