MIKE BURKE

Allegany Communications Sports

Attended a high-school class meeting on Monday night, and a classmate mentioned how the last day of school was always the greatest day of our lives. Or so we thought.

Actually, we weren’t wrong.

As it happens, today is the last day of school, at least in Allegany County. I understand it’s still a half-day, as it was then, because … there was nothing left to do.

Particularly when we were younger (because the older we became, the more we actually liked going to school), this was the day we lived for. The last day of school? Seriously? Once we got to that point, we pretty much had life hogtied, in the words of the great Terry Lippold –  at least until the day after Labor Day when we had to go back to school.

The thought of the last day of school continues to inspire the best memories, because it triggered the time of the year when we were really able to live our life – sleeping out with friends all night, going to the pool and, best of all, playing baseball every single day.

How perfect it was to love baseball then when we played ball all day long.

I think of this whenever I watch the movie “Sandlot,” and how a kid today might watch it and wonder, “What are they doing? Why are they playing baseball by themselves? Where are the uniforms? Couldn’t they get into a league? They won’t get a trophy.”

Now, of course, once we signed up to play little league, the uniforms were a very big deal. And if you were good enough to win a trophy, rather than have one handed to you for just showing up, sure, that was important, too. But we just loved to play, and we loved just being with each other, though I’m pretty sure we never mentioned it along the way..

Then, when we were in little league, we still played on our own – actually more than we did when we had the uniforms on. We didn’t have the down-time options kids have today. We didn’t have down time. We had no options.

Our parents told us to stay out of the house unless we were struck by lightning.

In the 1960s, I’d say only half of the mothers in our neighborhood worked; but since my mother was a school teacher, she was home during the summer. Yet that didn’t deter her from leaving me with only limited options. After I ate breakfast I was outside on a summer day other than to eat or to use the bathroom, but who went back home just to use the bathroom?

You left after breakfast, though you did have the option of coming back for lunch. But you absolutely had to come back for dinner or whenever you were called – vocally, as there were no phones.

Then, after dinner, you were back outside until the street lights came on.

If we weren’t having so much fun, it was the type of thing we might have taken personally. But we were too busy playing ball to take anything personally.

In those days there were ballfields and playgrounds everywhere. Of course, a lot more people lived here then, too.

Within walking distance from my house there were always games at Fort Hill, Washington Junior High, lots and fields, Penn Avenue ball field and playground, Virginia Avenue playground, Mapleside playground, St. Mary’s playground, Constitution Park and our home base, the playground at Johnson Heights where most of us attended elementary school.

We went to every cost to avoid Johnson Heights from September through early June, Monday through Friday, from 9 o’clock in the morning until 3:30 in the afternoon. But once school was out, baby, that’s where we could easily be found.

It was on those playgrounds and fields where we found out about ourselves – who the best ballplayers were, who the good guys were, who toughest guys were, who the leaders were, and who we were going to go with if we ever got into a pinch.

Most of all, it was on those playgrounds and fields where we found each other and grew together, making friendships and forging bonds that are stronger today than they were then. That’s how aging works.

They were the best times of our lives.

If you were a kid on the sandlot in those days, you get it. You know how it was. As proven at the class meeting, we still love having had it and, clearly, wouldn’t trade a single moment of it for the world.

And it was all made possible by our mothers, who in our Wonder Years ran the households and made us stay outside to play ball. They gave us their love and they gave us their trust, because without either one we were never going to grow up.

And once we did have uniforms? Our mothers made sure we all got to our games so we would have a place to be seen wearing them.

We may have been products of the sandlot, but our mothers always made us feel big league.

Last day of school. Time to play ball, baby!

Mike Burke writes about sports and other stuff for Allegany Communications. He began covering sports for the Prince George’s Sentinel in 1981 and joined the Cumberland Times-News sports staff in 1984, serving as sports editor for over 30 years. Contact him at [email protected]. Follow him on X @MikeBurkeMDT