Today. Today is the first official day of camp. The young men who have chosen, or were chosen, to spend the next 7 weeks here started arriving last night. The very first white van, driven by the incredibly beautiful Mrs. Welch, pulled into camp towards the end of the annual "New staff/counselors vs. Veteran staff/counselors" softball game. Which was officiated by yours truly. (More on that later)
This softball game is one of my favorite yearly traditions.. it follows a BBQ cookout over at the girl's camp, and then... having gorged ourselves on ribs and/or chicken, baked potatoes, and strawberry shortcake, we go play softball. As it turned out last night, in 110% humidity. (Mr. Vaughn... I know that's not possible. But it felt like it). This year's version was one of the best games I can remember, won by the veterans with a 1-run margin on a walk-off triple. The "News" often struggle with the game, as many are counselors from other countries, especially one island nation where the last thing that resembles softball was called "rounders"... and now they play cricket, among other sports.
But this crew of New Ones did themselves proud... they had plenty of folks who knew the game and knew it well... and a couple of the cricket players beat the ever-lasting snot out of the ball. Just crushed it. It really was a good game, and it was fun to participate in it.
About that... for the second straight year, I was requested/volunteered to provide umpiring services in the field. (Batters batted until they put it in play). I've been an umpire for a very long time, but we all know how much that counts. After a few controversial calls, I think there are about 2-3 counselors who are probably planning a midnight raid on our cabin, to beat me thoroughly about the neck and head with pool noodles.... but there was one "New" guy who said at one point "Are you actually an umpire?"... guess some kind of skill showed through, huh?
Oh, and that white van? Upon arrival, it disgorged a gaggle of boys from Israel, and camp is now officially camp. Up to now, it's been all preparation, staff bonding, and the calm before the storm... but this place doesn't really come alive until the kiddos arrive. They are, after all, the raison d'etre for this place.
A small group settled in last night, but today the big coach buses, and more vans continued to arrive, accompanied by the occasional family who lives close enough to drive their son up here personally. And then... remember that humidity? It ran head-on into gravity. After 7 gorgeous days here in Maine, the rains arrived about the same time the campers did. Go figure.
Don't get me wrong... it is beautiful here when it rains, and I love rain. Love walking in it.. (I swear I am going to have a hooded cloak some day... they need to come back in style). Love listening to it. But it does put a damper on the sports and other outdoor activities that permeate this camp.
So, tonight... I am going to go lie down in bed, and read... and listen to the rain. Listen to it pattering on the cabin roof. And sleep, knowing that, at long last... camp has begun.
What's that you say? Why the earplugs in the title? 100+ young men and a bunch of twenty-something male counselors, in a dining hall, with a full repertoire of camp songs, chants, conga lines, feet stomping, and table banging to draw from.... and the vim and vigor of youth begets volume.... and lots of it.
Greatness.
This softball game is one of my favorite yearly traditions.. it follows a BBQ cookout over at the girl's camp, and then... having gorged ourselves on ribs and/or chicken, baked potatoes, and strawberry shortcake, we go play softball. As it turned out last night, in 110% humidity. (Mr. Vaughn... I know that's not possible. But it felt like it). This year's version was one of the best games I can remember, won by the veterans with a 1-run margin on a walk-off triple. The "News" often struggle with the game, as many are counselors from other countries, especially one island nation where the last thing that resembles softball was called "rounders"... and now they play cricket, among other sports.
But this crew of New Ones did themselves proud... they had plenty of folks who knew the game and knew it well... and a couple of the cricket players beat the ever-lasting snot out of the ball. Just crushed it. It really was a good game, and it was fun to participate in it.
About that... for the second straight year, I was requested/volunteered to provide umpiring services in the field. (Batters batted until they put it in play). I've been an umpire for a very long time, but we all know how much that counts. After a few controversial calls, I think there are about 2-3 counselors who are probably planning a midnight raid on our cabin, to beat me thoroughly about the neck and head with pool noodles.... but there was one "New" guy who said at one point "Are you actually an umpire?"... guess some kind of skill showed through, huh?
Oh, and that white van? Upon arrival, it disgorged a gaggle of boys from Israel, and camp is now officially camp. Up to now, it's been all preparation, staff bonding, and the calm before the storm... but this place doesn't really come alive until the kiddos arrive. They are, after all, the raison d'etre for this place.
A small group settled in last night, but today the big coach buses, and more vans continued to arrive, accompanied by the occasional family who lives close enough to drive their son up here personally. And then... remember that humidity? It ran head-on into gravity. After 7 gorgeous days here in Maine, the rains arrived about the same time the campers did. Go figure.
Don't get me wrong... it is beautiful here when it rains, and I love rain. Love walking in it.. (I swear I am going to have a hooded cloak some day... they need to come back in style). Love listening to it. But it does put a damper on the sports and other outdoor activities that permeate this camp.
So, tonight... I am going to go lie down in bed, and read... and listen to the rain. Listen to it pattering on the cabin roof. And sleep, knowing that, at long last... camp has begun.
What's that you say? Why the earplugs in the title? 100+ young men and a bunch of twenty-something male counselors, in a dining hall, with a full repertoire of camp songs, chants, conga lines, feet stomping, and table banging to draw from.... and the vim and vigor of youth begets volume.... and lots of it.
Greatness.
Categories:
0 comments:
Post a Comment
If you feel moved to comment, I welcome your input. I do moderate all comments due to the Internet Troll Contradiction Act of 2015, so it may be a bit before the comments appears on the page....