Say it Ain't Slo

Death of rec softball? Why would it matter?

The one and only Wolf’s Pastry Mets had a player who once pitched for the Atlanta Braves. Dave Cheadle was a cuppa Joe major-leaguer. Lookimup. We had a few college players, a portly skipper who doubled as the team photographer and me, the crack 2B who could catch a ball but couldn’t hit one if his beer depended on it.

This was the summer of ‘79. I was fresh outta college, living in the little town of Westminster, MD, where the weekend excitement was a trip to the farm museum and a stop at the Whippy-Dip.

And slo-pitch softball. I lived for that. I wasn’t unusual.