By Jim Coffman
By 7 a.m. Saturday, when my picnicking co-conspirator arrived at our home park, some of the prime spots were gone. But he moved quickly – busting out crime scene tape, small posters and clips. And soon he had set up a perfect perimeter. It was close to the area where the trophies would be handed out but not too close. The signage was clear and concise – there would be no doubting our claim. And we had a wonderful mix of shade and sun, or at least we would have, if the day hadn’t been so overcast.
Our T-ball (and coach-pitch of course – don’t ever forget the coach-pitch) seasons ended with a picnic and awards ceremony last week. And somehow the event has evolved into a sort of miniature North Side land grab. I suppose it’s a chance to play Sooner (those enterprising Oklahomans who, when given the chance to settle some land north of Texas left early and grabbed the prime real estate) for a few hours anyway. People arrive early in the morning on the day of the event (I’m guessing some even get out there the night before) and, yes, string up lengths of the distinctive yellow plastic from tree to garbage can to tree to try to ensure their teams have the perfect picnic experience.
Posted on August 10, 2007