Jim Austin

His previous columns are archived HERE.

JIM AUSTIN

The Ibuprophen League

Do old athletes just fade away? Well the smart ones do. The others refuse to let it go, grow up, and get on with their lives.

Every time I tell someone about our baseball team, the "Putney Fossils," they say, "You mean softball right?

" No I mean baseball."

Why should the kids have all the fun? And why, just because a man gets a few silver threads among the gold, should he have to resort to a girlie game like softball?

We have been at this for the past four years, creaking and squeaking in relative obscurity. The Fossils play the Landmark College baseball team in the Spring. In Summer and into Fall we rely on the Brattleboro Buzzards for competition.

The Buzzards are an odd collection of guys. Chris is their captain. He has hair down to his lumbar region and looks more like an Eastern European cello player than a ball player. His team consists of ex-college players, ex-high school players, and baseball fans who are wannabe baseball players.

Our geezer-squad is considerably older and thus the Paleolithic moniker. Every Sunday I crouch behind the plate to take up my old Little League position. I am able to un-crouch by about Wednesday.

Ricky J. plays first. He is known as the "barreling bone-spur." He has several osteopathic deformities that inhibit his trip to first. RJ needs a triple to get a single. Claude is our field-master and second baseman.

A while back, Claude and a few friends got the idea that Dummerston needed a baseball field then proceeded to raise the dough and build one. The diamond is Claude's baby. If you are grooming the first base line and happen to rake some dirt into the grass Claude will tear you a brand new orifice. We are all afraid of Claude.

Claude's son Steven plays SS and is our only non-fossilized player. We had the oxymoronic Harry Bald playing that position but he slid into second three weeks ago, hit the bag, and flipped his kneecap around to the other side of his leg. He's a goner.

Dennis Fagen, host of Sportsline Live, plays third. He is very proud of his accurate throws to first. He has reason to be proud; sometimes it only bounces twice before it gets there. Our outfielders are Carl, John and Brian. They often miss fly balls because they are arguing about the best brand of colostomy bag.

The guy that is the linch-pin of the Fossils is "Fireball Bissell." He is just a youngster at forty and still has some pop in the old arm. Actually the outfielders can hear his arm pop if they use their ear trumpets. Fireball has three pitches; he's always around the plate and is very competitive. He won't hesitate to brush a Buzzard back if he's crowding the plate. Fortunately a 45 mph fastball doesn't hurt that much.

We got a new guy the other day. Quentin, aka Q-Tip, has taken over some of the catching duties. He is definitely extending my career by allowing me to play first or outfield. We had to stop him trying to throw runners out from first to second. By the time the ball got to Claude they were strolling into third.

Both the Buzzards and the Fossils could use some more competition. If you have ever felt the urge to lurch off your La-Z-Boy and creak around the diamond. why don't you organize some pals and get a team together? Did you know that they use aluminum bats now, and the batters wear helmets?

If you can cobble together nine or ten over 35ers, let me know and we'll schedule a game. You bring the liniment and I'll bring the air-casts.