As a kid, my imagination often got the best of me.
Video games became so real that they were all I ever thought about. I remember the gold cartridge from the Nintendo game, The Legend of Zelda. I lived and breathed that game for a while, until I came to the conclusion that it was unhealthy for me to continue playing it. Even today, many years later, I sometimes still have dreams that I am in that world. I use a sword to strike infinite numbers of square blocks of stone that have rounded corners. The stones burst and disintegrate like dense sacks of flour, one after another. It creates a sensation in my spine that is difficult to describe on paper.
This sounds a bit weird, I'm sure.
Perhaps this is somewhat strange for a young boy, too: The first crush I had on a girl was with She-Ra, the Princess of Power. Remembering back to my emotions of that time, I felt some pretty serious affection for her.
The problem is that She-Ra was a cartoon character. The series ran from 1985-86. To me, she was a real person that I had conversations with in my dreams at night.
As a kid, I also watched the cartoon, Dungeons and Dragons, which ran from 1983-1985. My parents thought the game of Dungeons and Dragons was a little too close to witchcraft, and they would not let me play it. Looking back, I'm glad they did not buy the game for me and only let me watch the cartoon, because I would have sunken into that world very deeply.
My tendency as a child to kind of lose touch with reality did not just revolve around medieval type fantasies, though it is a reason that even as an adult, I've shied away from reading the Harry Potter novels, as good as they may be. Movies are better for me. You are in and out in a couple of hours. Novels can takes weeks to read and force you to create much more of the imagery in your mind.
I remember when dad signed up my brother and me to play organized baseball for the first time. It was t-ball, actually, and the name of our team was the Falcons. We had white shirts with red lettering and red hats with white lettering.
Our arch rival, the Larks, whose colors were maroon and white, gave us our only loss in the regular season.
We met the Larks again in the championship game, though, and this time we won. The coaches got us all trophies.
I was not the best player, and I got stuck in right field for most games.
But when I learned I was going to play baseball, when dad told my brother and me that he had signed us up and I and that our first practice was soon, in my head was quite vivid imagery. I was a first baseman, wearing a uniform that resembled closely that of the New York Yankees. The stadium that we played in would be huge, the size of a pro stadium, and it would be completely packed with fans.
I remember real feelings of anxiety about the situation. But even at that young age, I also had a sort of thrill that girls would be in the stands watching me play ball.
The reality of the actual environment we played in- bleachers occupied mainly by parents at a small recreational park field- never lessened my nervousness before and during a game.
During our first practice, I drew a laugh from the crowd on a play, when I ran way outside the baseline to avoid being tagged by the third baseman.
Around that same time, I attended my first major league baseball game. My family went with a church group to watch the Atlanta Braves.
It was about a six hour drive from Lumberton to Atlanta, and I remember riding in the church van. My uncle Ken and my cousin Brian (a younger kid than me) also went with our family.
These were the days before Turner Field had been built. The team played in Fulton County Stadium, and they were not very good. The stadium was practically empty for the game against the Cincinnati Reds.
My cousin's favorite player was Dale Murphy of the Braves. Brian had a poster of him in his bedroom, and he was very excited about getting to see the game.
During the drive down to Atlanta from North Carolina, Brian crawled under one the back seat in the church van with some action figures and began playing in what he called "Noah's World."
We all thought it was pretty funny, and if I remember correctly, my brother crawled under the seat with him with his own action figures. Years later, one of my friends from the church youth group would still talk about that trip and my cousin's creation of Noah's world.
During the game, the Braves vs. the Reds, I saw my first home run.
I remember it well. Through the first innings, I had watched with fascination a number of routine fly ball outs. Each one I thought would be a home run, as I was amazed at how high and how far the ball traveled.
When Eric Davis of the Reds hit the homer, though, the crowd reacted differently as the ball came off the bat. The trajectory of the ball was more of a line shot, and it traveled more quickly than the other fly ball outs.
There was a roar as soon as Davis hit it, and a Reds fan sitting in front of me threw his fist in the air as the ball took flight. There were almost as many Reds fans at the game as Braves fans.
I remember Pete Rose, too, the manager of the Reds who at that time also played for them, running out to argue a call. The chorus of boos, even though it was a sparse crowd, startled me.
Dad also bought me some ice cream served in a miniature Braves batting helmet.
It was great trip, and a great introduction to my favorite sport.
From video games to baseball league – this is a great shift of interest. I suddenly remember my first softball league. The anxiety feeling is normal since it's really a nerve-wracking experience, but it is exciting at the same time because I had to wear a cool uniform. I think the uniform has a huge effect on people's interest in sports, especially when they saw their name on it.
ReplyDeleteJennine Stalder @ UESports.com