The legends of the summer, a long time ago...

In my home town, there were a series of fields of battle, where ancient Gods battled in epic wars of speed, agility, strength and cunning. The Colosseum's were built by the Romans, Greeks or even Babylonians. These hollowed grounds were forged by fathers, who dreamed of fame and fortunes that the product of their loins would surely begin to forge on these platforms of grass and dirt. 


The ball fields were protected by carefully manicured mounds of peanut butter and coca.  They laid in waiting behind the massive steel structures of chain link and skyscraper sized poles.They seemed to tower forever allowing only the highest of clouds to pass unobstructed.  They began an invisible barrier that would separate the mortals from the Gods.   Looking through them onto the field showed a glimpse of a natural carpet which radiated so green that the City of Oz, would've wanted if such magnificent color ever existed outside the realm of battle standing before you.  The grass was enclosed by the finest sand, top soil, sweat collected from exotic lands far beyond our borders.  The sweat remnants of battles of Gods whose best days have since passed away.  


You waited on the wood benches adoring the edges of the field with great anticipation to be invited to play.  You leaped with joy inside when the long awaited hand motion or call were aimed in your direction.  You trotted across the milky white lines and were instantly transformed from a young boy, into the hero's of your youth.  We took the possession of locations assigned to us by the weathered seasoned dispatchers of knowledge.  We prepared for battle, we nervously awaited the coming wave of carefully directed onslaught.  We became one in a symbiotic relationship with the field of battle.  We moved like panthers and cheetahs, stalking and attacking a prey, that lowly sphere, the magic contained could transform you from a mere mortal into a steely God of the ball diamond.  After you won the battle, on the grass, you took conquest of the smallest part of the universe. The sphere of Gods is hurled at you, those who can stand against it earn respect, but only those who swing their massive weapons striking true, will earn the God title of Ballplayer.
The battles raged every day into the night, some soldiers were bestowed a victory,while others dreams of the perfect season were crushed, destroyed and dismissed, but fear not brave warrior, You still have next year to earn the legendary status.