www.lawrencesavell.com  Tunes and Tales



My favorite softball field, on which we play several games each season, is Field #4 at Riverside Park at 108th Street.  I like this field for a number of reasons:

  It was the field where, as a walk-on, I met members of SFTLOI for the first time, several years ago
  It was the field where, in my first "Lawyers' Softball League" game after I joined my firm as an associate, I faced the team of the guy who was the Captain of my high school's baseball team (which I failed to make all four years, prompting me to play intramural softball instead), and hit a redemptive home run in my first at-bat as my team went on to victory
  It, although in a poor state of repair, is esthetically very appealing, with the (unfortunately often glare-inducing) Hudson behind and the hills of New Jersey in the distance, and a promenade beyond and above the field which facilitates occasional spectators (and/or victims of home runs returning to Earth)
  It has a high Fenway-like fence which I can still thankfully reach on occasion

The following is a brief tour of the facility.  You can click on each thumbnail picture to see a larger image.

Walking north along the Riverside Park promenade, you see the various fields (there are four in all) to your left below.  Further to your left is the West Side Highway, then the Hudson, then New Jersey beyond.  Take a deep breath.
As you approach the field, the sense of excitement grows (although it may, in fact, be a touch of vertigo, perhaps coupled with food poisoning).  You begin to get a sense of the altitude a batted ball must achieve to make it over the wall.
Standing directly over the outfield, keeping an eye out for the occasional liner headed for your cranium, you discern the surroundings, the overhanging trees.  You may sit on a bench and enjoy the game from your free "sky-box."
At field level, walking away from the highway, you look through the wire fence to behold the grandeur of the area beyond (reading this, the words "Get A Life!" may come to mind).  The fence lurks in the far-off, dusty horizon.
You step up to the plate (actually, you step down to it, as there is always a subway-like ditch on either side which you must climb out of after you hit a ball should you desire to reach base).  Your pulse quickens with excitement.
If, as a runner, you get confused and head straight towards "The Wall," you appreciate the majesty of the edifice (take that guy's thesaurus away).  Hopefully, the ball you hit will travel further than you have.

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