Saturday, August 9, 2008

1964 ~ Welcome to New Jersey

I'd always told people that I moved to New Jersey when I was twelve. Technically, this was not true, however. My family moved to New Jersey in January, the 20th to be precise, and my birthday falls in September. So in actuality I moved to Jersey when I was eleven. That explains why I was able to play two years of Little League there.

Baseball was a big part of my life in those days. In Little League I was a pitcher/infielder, and above average with a bat. We played every day in Maple Heights, the suburb of Cleveland where I grew up. When spring rolls around the first thing you do is look for the pickup game in your neighborhood.

In Jersey, our temporary first home was a rental property on Highway 202-206 with no running hot water. We stayed there while the new split level suburban house was being built over the mountain, the first foothill of the Watchung range in Bridgewater. The kids in the neighborhood welcomed my brother and I to play ball with them, and we eagerly joined.

Something I did a lot was call out the score, announce the game as it was going along, how many outs there were, etc. It was a form of leadership, I'd like to believe, or maybe I was just a blabbermouth, always announcing what was going on as if it were a big deal. I think I just wanted everyone to be on the same page. But especially so when the inning ended and teams exchanged roles between being on and off the field.

On one occasion during one of those early games, the other team scored a run and I announced, "Five to two," to let everyone know that was their second run and we were no only ahead by three. Louis P, a tough kid who was a year older than I and captain of the other team, shouted back that the score was five to three, that they had three runs.

Naturally, being a little anal about accuracy in these matters, I objected and replied that the score was five to two. I proceeded to review in my mind the plays in which the two runs were knocked in, and began to lay this out before him as he was approaching. He walked up to me and grabbed my shoulders with rough hands. "It's five to three," he declared.

"No, it's only five to two," I said with conviction.

In a totally unexpected move, he kneed me in the groin. I was eleven and did what eleven year olds often do when a bully strikes them. I went crying home to my mother, hurting quite badly from the blow. I vividly remember sprinting across the field and up between the houses to my back door, serious tears streaming.

Running into the house, I told what happened. Mom came across very matter of fact in her response. In effect she said, "Do you like playing baseball? Well, those are the kids in the neighborhood that you have to get along with if you want to play ball."

And yes, I wanted to play ball. It was a little different kind of crowd from the kids in my old neighborhood in Maple Heights. But I found my place and learned a few lessons that would stand me well over the years. For example, if you are getting beat up, don't fall to the ground because they will also stomp on your head. And make sure you protect what your vulnerable spots.

In the bigger world there really are some different kinds of animals out there. Not everyone plays by the rules. You just have to be a little wary, and know what's important to you. Not everyone plays nice. On the other hand, that's no reason to quit.

Sports can bring all kinds of people together. And it can teach us many lessons. This week the Olympics have convened in Beijing. The opening ceremonies were a spectacle. There will be new records set, no doubt, and heartbreaking losses for many. Hopefully the scoring will be accurate and fair, and the world will be reminded of the important lesson these games are intended to teach: that as fellow creatures on a finite planet we must learn how to get along.

6 comments:

LEWagner said...

>>>>>>>>>Sports can bring all kinds of people together. And it can teach us many lessons. This week the Olympics have convened in Beijing. The opening ceremonies were a spectacle. There will be new records set, no doubt, and heartbreaking losses for many. Hopefully the scoring will be accurate and fair, and the world will be reminded of the important lesson these games are intended to teach: that as fellow creatures on a finite planet we must learn how to get along.

I'm sure you've noticed that I'm not into sports much, and I really don't care which team or athlete wins a competition. (As we nerds used to wannabe-toughly mutter amongst ourselves at our behind-the-ice-skating-shack smoking klatch at Hermantown High, "It's no skin off of MY butt, either way. Let THEM hurt THEMselves. We're only abusing our LUNGS!")
But I agree with you 100%, that the Olympic Games are a great thing to bring people together and show them that they can get along, in friendly competition. They're a world-wide tradition, with long precedent in history.
Did you know that next year the ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations) games is scheduled to be held in Vientiane, Lao P.D.R? (The games rotate between the 10 member-countries, and next year is the Lao P.D.R.'s turn -- their first turn, in fact.)
A local doctor is also a renowned song-writer in this country, and he has written lyrics to a song that's going to be sung at the welcoming ceremony.
He parked his pickup, and made his way on foot up the BADLY rutted lane to my hut the other day, and brought me the lyrics scribbled out in Lao.
He told me that after the band strikes up the music, first they're going to sing the Lao National Anthem, then his song in Lao, and then they're going to sing his song again, in English.
He told me that I'd BETTER do a good job of translating it, or people from Singapore, Malaysia, etc., where they speak English either as a first or second language, are going to think I'm a stupid. (Pardon my Italian.)
I've got the meaning of the song down well in my mind (with a lot of help from both the song-writer, and my Lao tutor and special translating assistant) -- but now to to try to make it rhyme.
The meaning of the song is the same that you expressed in your post.

LEWagner said...

>>>>>>next year the ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations) games is scheduled ....

.... should be *are* scheduled. Gotta keep them there grammars straight.

LEWagner said...

>>>>>>>but now *to to* try to make it rhyme.

One two would have been enough. Too to's were two many.
Time too go 2 bed.

LEWagner said...

And the Hutus decided that the Tutsis were too many. But that's not funny, anymore.

Ed Newman said...

That is very, very cool, about being involved in the translation of that song. I'm sure you don't need my help in any way, but if you wish for a second set of eyes to review the meter and rhymes (or assonance, if preferred)I'd be happy to help.

At some point in past year I wrote about various translations of Rilke's The Panther, and how varied they were, some almost striking me as inept, and all claiming to be a good translation.

As for two twos, tutus and Hutus, ... OK, sure. U2.

LEWagner said...

>>>>>>>>I'm sure you don't need my help in any way, but if you wish for a second set of eyes to review the meter and rhymes (or assonance, if preferred)I'd be happy to help.

The doctor was here yesterday, and we decided that a literal translation of the meaning of the song is better than stretching it around to make it rhyme. It's only going to be sung once, anyway, by people from different countries, most of whom can't speak a lot of English, and those who can, all have their own accents. Rhythm and rhyme aren't going to be important -- and we're not aiming at any top-10 hit list, either.

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