Our little league baseball team had been formed at the last minute. Our coach had never coached a baseball team before and his job was made all that harder because of the soft-spoken, non-confrontational manner in which he managed the team. Our given team name was the "Bears" even though the front of our shirts read "Blaine Athletic Association." Unlike other teams that were able to get sponsors to buy them new uniforms and equipment. We were not. Being from a poor part of the city the only sponsor that we could get was the city, and the only thing that they provided was our tee shirts and our hats.

Our first game of the season was against the Expos. When we arrived at the ballpark we could see that they were already practicing. From a distance they seemed small, a perception that did not change as our proximity decreased. With their fresh new uniforms they looked like they were bound for the major leagues. The smiles that they wore on their faces were a testament to the fun they were having. We, on the other hand, piled out of the van in our yellow tee shirts and plain yellow ball caps like a mob. We thought that we were going to get creamed.

As the game started it was evident early on that the Expos were just horrible. They had a lot of trouble hitting the ball and when they did connect the ball never left the infield. Most of the time it would fly in a perfect arc to the short stop or the second baseman. This was especially troubling to me as I was an outfielder and I was getting bored. At several points during the game I actually sat down in the grass to mock them. Others on the team followed suit. We would pretend to yawn and of course we would hurl the standard insults at them.

When it was our turn to bat the Expos didn't fair much better. While we were not all that great, we had a knack for hitting the ball in between the outfielders and the infielders. By the end of the first inning the score was 14 to 1. The rest of the game continued along these lines with a final score of 41 to 6. As the Expos got further and further behind we ratcheted up the insults. By the time the game was over we had crushed the Expos both on the scoreboard and in spirit. After the game when the two teams lined up to give high fives we would pretend to miss their hands. We were on top of the world and we wanted the Expos to know that they weren't.

All that week we were full of ourselves. We wanted everyone to know just how good we were and we bragged endlessly. We went to practice but all that we did was to relive our favorite moments from last week's game. Our coach tried to get us to take our practice seriously but as a first time coach and a generally nice guy he did not have the forceful personality that a coach needs.

When the next week came around, we piled out of the van to face the Yankees. Like the Expos, the Yankees were dressed from head to toe in team colors. We were again in our ratty tee shirts and plain yellow ball caps. But as we watched the Yankees practicing we noticed that the players were not the smallish kids that the Expos had been, they were big. They tossed the ball around as if they had been practicing since birth. At batting practice they crushed the ball into the outfield with seemingly little effort. We were wide eyed and a little troubled, but we knew what we had done the previous week and we thought that we might be able to pull it off again.

As the game started we were the first at bat. Sadly, it was three up and three down. As the Yankees came to bat my position in the outfield became a focal point, as every ball seemed to come my way. For some reason I was unable to catch anything. If I did manage to get to the ball it would bounce out of my glove as if it had hit a concrete block. However, most of the time it would be just out of my range and I would have to chase it to the back wall over and over again. The other outfielders on my team had similar results. By the end of the first inning the score was a terrifying 0 to 21. The Yankees were simply awesome. We were humiliated; our spirits were crushed; our pride was deflated. It was a humbling experience.

The Yankees eventually beat us even worse than we had beaten the Expos the previous week. I don't know if it would have made a difference if we had actually taken our practices seriously, I don't think that it would have. The Yankees were just too good. However, the thing that sticks out in my mind most is the magnanimous nature in which they congratulated us on a game well played. During the entire blowout they had not hurled one insult; they didn't pretend to be bored by sitting down in the outfield; and they gave us high fives at the end of the game as if we were worthy. They were the embodiment of the phrase "its not whether you win or lose, its how you play the game". When all was said and done they had tried to make use feel good about our participation in the game of baseball. It was an honor that we had not bestowed on the Expos the previous week. We were not worthy and we knew it.

I don't remember how many games that we won or lost that season. However, I do remember that during the rest of the season we worked hard to be like the Yankees. We cultivated our skills and our sportsmanship until we were good at both. Our team had a new attitude that reflected well on each of us and the game of baseball.

I moved away at the end of the season, but sometimes my mind wanders back to the summer that I spent on that baseball diamond so long ago. The plain yellow hat that the city gave me hung on my wall for years. I used it to remind me of the lessons that I learned while wearing it. Lessons about friendship, sportsmanship, and life that would forever shape the man that I would become.