The Gang's All Here!

Wow! Been a long time since I last imparted any words of wisdom on this blog. Maybe it's because I really and truly don't possess any words of wisdom to pass along. And that's OK!
But I just experienced a weekend and though I gained no wisdom from it, I gained the vision of why we should maintain solid-gold friendships with those who were instrumental to our development in the formative years and beyond. You see, following my college days, I spent a few lean years trying to figure out what I was trying to accomplish in life. How would I maintain my lavish lifestyle? Fulltime employment? Hmmm...not so much. How about playing softball with a bunch of rag-tag friends, working as a liquor store clerk and subsidizing my income by participating in a weekly poker game with aforementioned amigos? A couple of my teammates were elementary school chums, a few friends of friends, a sibling and even my "pater." Yes, Big George, my dad, strapped it on and lead this bunch of misfits (who had conned a local trucking company to pay for our jerseys and league fees.) My dad loved baseball/softball but due to some health issues could no longer play his favorite sport. But, he did enjoy sitting in the dugout wearing his "Big George" jersey and trying to get us to "get off our lazy asses and run out the grounders" and "quit looking at the ball." Did we ever learn? I doubt it. Just maybe we went deaf just so we could hear him continuously get on our cases. He loved it and so did we. Anyway............
Our team was mediocre and below but we had the times of our lives. And perhaps the meeting of the baseball minds after each game at the local pub, the Village Inn, was the real reason for our attempts at capturing the coveted $12 gold plated championship trophy. I made some tight, solid friendships during the years playing third base for our team. We shared weddings, births, even a couple of deaths in our early years. Then as usually happens, life gets in the way and no matter how hard we tried to stay together, it wasn't meant to be...(fast forward from the mid- 70's to the present; listen for that familiar whirling sound like you hear in the movies)...until this past weekend! Yes we held a reunion of the Orozco Trucking softball team and the Sunday Night Poker Posse. It took about 3 months to plan and finally it was here. Most of us had not seen each other in 30+ years...so we rented a penthouse suite in the OC and got her done!
Weezer flew in from Nebraska; the rest of us were still in SoCal. Oh, did I mention that not one in the group has a real name. That's right, for the years we were together nary a real name was ever used. And it had nothing to do with outwitting the law! So that tradition continued during the reunion...mostly because our memories are shot and we couldn't remember each others names if our collective lives depended on it. I would love to give you the sordid details of the weekend but "what happens in the OC..." Here's the roster of attendees:
Weezer
King
Large Lewis
Boomer
Lizard
MooseNose
Johnny 3 Fingers
Wheels
Simone
Roach (who stiffed us and pulled a no-show)
Great White (deceased)
Tony the Dick (Deceased)
Sounds like an episode from the Sopranos doesn't it?
Quite a conglomeration of interesting human beings who were attracted under the auspices of softball 3 1/2 decades ago. Our gathering last Saturday night resumed conversations that were begun 35 years ago and continued with incredible continuity 35 years later. We all experienced the power of the best friend. An amazing power and an equally amazing bond.
Orozco Trucking hit one out of the park this past weekend. One of our most sensational wins of all time. Hopefully we can get the team together again next year with the same strong lineup of men...er...boys who love each other and would do anything for each other.
So maybe I did gain some wisdom from our reunion and would like to impart these words of wisdom:
Your oldest and dearest friends are a deep-rooted connection to a past that created who you are today. Treasure and cherish them.