So last night Eric and I shot over to our local watering hole, the Village Pub. I saw a dude there that I knew, but he didn’t recognize me. I had to say something.
Me: Archie? Is that you?
The dude’s eyes get about four inches wide.
Dude: How do you know that name? Nobody’s called me that since I was a kid.
Me: Nineteen seventy-four. T-Ball Pirates.
Dude: Holy sh–
And so it was. I haven’t seen Archie since I was five and he was six, which was (gulp) A THIRD OF A CENTURY AGO. He was the tall first baseman on my first baseball team, the Pirates. We got spanked that year, coming in last place. With Archie being a year ahead of me, he wasn’t around the next year when we came back to redeem ourselves and win the championship. I actually made first base my zone the following year, which is where all the action is in T-Ball.
Archie’s real name is Isaac, which I was never aware of at the time. He’s hitting 40 next week, and has two boys now. Michael, 15, and Kyle, 12. Circle of life, indeed.
