By Jeff Tirrell
Franklincountynow.com Staff Writer
“PING!!!” This is definitely a sound of spring sports: the metal bat making clean contact with a fat pitch, the ball taking off like a tee shot into the alley in left-center. This one feels especially sweet off the bat. Certainly not like that in-on-the-handle stinger back on that 34-degree day in April when his forearms were still aching an hour later.
“THUD!!!” Another sound of spring sports: that line drive up the alley speared by the baby-faced sophomore leftfielder on a dead run toward the fence, effectively killing a potential big inning. That batter’s forearms don’t hurt, just his ego.
“C’MON, ALY…GIVE IT A RIDE…YOU GOT THIS!!!” A very loud sound of spring sports: the young ladies in the dugout, shouting encouragement to their teammate in the batter’s box. Aly is digging in on the right side, ready to “scope it and rope it”, quite likely over the fence for another home run. Aly can hit. Don’t look away, because it will leave the yard thisquickly.
“OH MAN…” A not-so-loud sound of spring sports: a muttered self-admonishment as the senior tennis captain holds back on a backhand return shot, sure the ball he is letting go will sail out. Yet, there it is, clearly tapping the baseline, and the point, the game, the set and the match are lost.
“THUMP-THUMP…THUMP-THUMP…THUMP-THUMP”, the beating heart of the sprinter on the starting line, ready to launch herself down the track to victory, followed by the “CRACK!!!” of the starter’s gun. Seconds later…wow…really? A personal record! “YES!!!”. Her mom yells the exact same thing at the same time. Yet another sound of spring sports. In 2020, we will hear none of that.
The list of things I enjoy about high school sports runs from here to way over there. Yes, a very long list. I do love major college and professional sports of course, but there is real, undeniable magic to the local sports scene that is lessened as the venues get bigger. It’s the sounds, people.
Sure, you may hear a ballplayer at a spring training ballpark voice his displeasure over missing a pitch or not getting a call. If you had good seats for the Celtics during Kevin Garnett’s time here, you covered your kid’s ears when KG started spewing obscenities at his opponent. But there is a level of detachment in major sports that is just not there in local sports.
It is only when attending a local sporting event that you are so intimately observing the action. You are often right there, mere feet away from the competition. We feel as though we know (sorry, knew) Tom Brady, but we actually do know these high school kids, some of them quite well, and many since they were knee-high to a peanut. We met TB12 when he was 23 years old. We remember the day Ryan, or Max, or Emily, was born.
Now, we are sending Ryan, Max, Emily and the rest off to a graduation of sorts, with no memories or experiences of a spring sports season. No capper to a high school athletic career. No one final chance at a championship for the hometown team. In 2020, the silence is deafening.