On a recent Thursday, around 6 p.m., I drove over to White Park on the west side of Concord. It was a warm early summer evening, the sun still high in the beautiful blue sky.
But as I approached the baseball field, I was a little disappointed. The Concord Sunset League game, between the Grappone club and the Sanel Auto club had already begun, even though it was not quite the announced starting time of 6 p.m.
It was too hard to stay down. The warm weather, the manicured grass, the casual ambiance – and the familiar sounds of ball slapping into catcher’s mitt, and ball meeting swung bat – were the perfect tonic for a baseball-starved man like me.
Major League Baseball and our “Ol’ Towne” Red Sox are just now taking their first tentative swings at beginning their long-delayed 2020 season. It’s early July, and team owners and players hope to get things rolling around the end of this month. Still, the long-running problems associated with the COVID-19 pandemic cast a shadow over the shorted season plan. And, even if, and when, the boys take the field this year, they will be doing it without the familiar look, sound and feel of rooting fans in the stands.
That’s why the Concord Sunset League is especially wonderful this year. It’s the oldest twilight-sunset league in the nation, having begun in 1909. It was once where local boys and men would gather for a few hours of recreation after their local factory and office day jobs. Now it’s mostly a Big Boy “playground” for talented young college players from around the country. It’s real baseball, played on green summer grass by good players in real uniforms with wooden bats.
In the area behind home plate, a smattering of fans came to enjoy the game. They were mostly on lawn chairs, sipping drinks and chatting in groups of twos and threes. A couple of young teenage boys on the lone park bench behind home plate were devouring a bag of potato chips and globs of other unhealthy foods as they watched. Off to the left sat a young woman under a tree, paying more rapt attention to her cell phone than the game; she’s either a date or the girlfriend one of the players, I guessed. Whenever a batter popped a foul ball into the area behind home, one of the young teens, or a player, would race to retrieve it and toss it back to the umpire.
Further up the grassy knoll was a larger family group of young women and children, talking and playing. Several times, one of the women came down closer to the field, followed by an over-friendly pooch and two toddlers, ages about three and four. They would walk over to the section behind the Grappone bench, and one particular player would come out to greet them. Once, when the group was waiting for their player, he was running on the bases and scored a run just as they spotted him. As he walked to the bench, the kids began jumping up and down, shouting, “Daddy! Daddy!”
The Sanel pitcher was having a tough time at first, but his defense held fast, and the team bounced back with a few runs. They looked to be close to catching up, so when the sides were reversing, I called out to the home plate umpire, asking what the score was. “I don’t know,” he said, but one of the players did. The Sanels were indeed only two runs behind.
It wasn’t long before the woman and two kids came back down the hill, and the youngsters stood up on the small wall behind home plate. “Go 17! Go 17,” they shouted, as Daddy made his way to the plate. (During the games, all the players are known only by their uniform numbers, even by their own teammates.) But Daddy struck out this time. So, the trio made their way back up the hill, still enjoying the whole affair.
Concord Sunset League games are admission-free and only seven innings. So, in a little more than two hours, we were picking up our drinks and lawn chairs. It was still light, still summertime warm, and easy to head home with the full feeling of a good, clean night of fun and competition. This year especially, the Concord Sunset League is more than just baseball. It’s a marvelous way for a family to spend a special summer evening.
(Ray Carbone lives in Warner.)