By Dr. Curtis Varnell

Drive through any small town in Arkansas on a spring and early summer night and you will see banks of lights illuminating small and large baseball fields crawling with youngsters and their parents. Hilarious to watch, the small kids might be chasing fireflies in the outfield, laying down in the base paths, or even running around the bases in reverse. Warm weather, lawn chairs, popcorn, baseball, and family are an integral part of American life.

Now primarily a sport for children, baseball was once the primary sport of adults in America. Every community had one or more teams of athletes who represented the town or workplace. Organized into leagues, the men would travel throughout the area playing in tournaments or leagues of very competitive teams. Mining towns like Paris, Altus, Ozark, Clarksville, Charleston, and Greenwood would have company teams complete with equipment, uniforms, and travel supplied by the company. If you were good enough, the mine might provide you release time or even a salary to compete.

I grew up listening to my father talk about the athletic ability of John Needham, James and Harold Hatcher and others. Several of them had enough ability to play minor league and even try out for the majors.

My dad never played but he was a true fan. Dad’s cousin, Lindal Parsons, was a left-handed phenomenal hitter who had played military baseball in Europe. With demands for his abilities, he played for Midway, Paris, and Scranton teams. During one tournament in Dover, he hit so many home runs, they took the right field fence down during mid-tournament. The controversy this move created was nothing new for the sport. Men and teams took winning seriously. High inside fastballs that resulted in players dropping to the ground for protection was a norm; although hitting someone would result in retaliation or even brawls.

Many Sunday afternoons were spent watching baseball in Scranton. Dressed in purple with pinstripe pants and caps bearing a large gold S symbol, the team looked every bit a professional group. One of my favorites was Ross Rogers. A large and strong guy with a most unusual stance and wind-up, when he connected with the ball, it would sail forever. Bill Beshoner, although my age, often played with the team. Watching them try to hit a Travis Cooper curveball was a treat. The ball started at eye level and then disappeared, leaving the batter swatting futilely. I tried it years later with about the same type of luck!!

My dad loved to listen to the Cardinals on KMOX radio. We cheered for Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, Curt Flood and all of those stars of the 60’s and 70’s. Didn’t matter that we were from the South and that they were Afro-American; race and ethics had little to do with it, they were ball players. Beginning with Jackie Robinson, I believe baseball has been one of the great things that have united us as a people.

Travel through Waldron, Hackett, Dardanelle, Ozark, or Booneville during this time of the year and life is much the same. A warm spring evening, the smell of fresh-cut grass, the crack of a bat, and the excited cries of children having fun. Whether you have a child playing or not, go out to the ballpark and share the joys of life in small town America.