 "I'm throwing about 76 [mph]," he said gleefully, as we warmed up on a field operated by the Los Angeles Angels. Pros, even the senior kind, know exactly how fast they throw.
Why pay an entry fee to play a game you used to get paid for? Why risk injury and embarrassment? "When I'm on the baseball field, time seems to stand still," he says. "For two or three hours I feel like I'm 12 years old. Why would you stop doing something that makes you feel that way?" But studying Bill Lee on the diamond as he teaches and often berates his teammates, you realize there is more to it. Competition is in his blood.
I watched him throw batting practice, an exercise aimed at helping hitters. "I bet I can make him roll one to the left side," Bill said, his longish gray hair blowing in the desert breeze. Sure enough, a weak ground ball followed. "I just took 5 miles per hour off the fastball and dropped it on the inside corner."
As we walked off the field, Bill mentioned that he plans on switch-hitting. "I've got better power from the right side," he said.
Good luck to the Braves and Astros players. I hope that 30 or 40 years from now they can still enthuse about smacking a baseball over the left fielder's head.
(c) Peter Funt. This column originally appeared in The Wall Street Journal.
|
|
