My Father’s Day was a warm slow Sunday without any particular impetus to accomplish anything.
So in the early afternoon, I drove over to Northampton Area High School to watch a couple innings of Blue Mountain League baseball.
The BML is an amateur league for grownups — basically, for working stiffs who aren’t done playing baseball.
It’s been around for almost 70 years, and has enough of a sense of history to have posted its statistical archives online.
This allows the stat geeks among us to look up the likes of ? Youngkin, who hit .075 in 40 plate appearances with Easton in 1968 and apparently was too embarrassed about it to leave his first name with the scorer.
Only the hitting statistics are online, which suggests the BML might value hitting more than it does pitching.
I didn’t get a sense of that in person, though, watching the Northampton Giants and Martins Creek Creekers play two-and-a-half mostly hitless and totally scoreless innings.
The Giants wore orange jerseys like their major-league namesakes wore in the ’80s, while the Creekers’ red-white-and-blue caps gave their gray road unis a ’90s Montreal Expos feel.
The end result was like watching a jumbled Game of the Week from my childhood — the kind where it doesn’t seem realistic that the two teams played, but they must have, because there’s film of it.
I enjoyed my brief visit with the Blue Mountain League, and went home untroubled by mascots, paid parking, assigned seats, or any knowledge of the score.
(Martins Creek won; whether it was 1-0, 10-0 or 10-9, only God and three guys in the bleachers know.)
Some pictures, inevitably: