For an old guy, climb’in into the batter’s box can be almost dangerous. It can raise the blood pressure and bring on a rush that hovers somewhere between a 9 or 10, on the scale of elation. Age never changes the raw thrill; it’s always like it has been from the sandlot days; it’s wonderfully and inexplicably new each time. What a place to have the big one, right there in the box_"Sorry, Mrs. Seniorsoftballnut, he just whacked a long one that was headed for the fences and then fell over. He did have a few last words to say tho’: Some of the boys were sure they heard him say, ‘Lordy, Lordy, just let this last one get all of the way out!"

Funny thing about this swatting skill is that getting older (and more practised-up) does not guarantee that he will get better at it. It has to do with executing the same motor skills over and over again. Perhaps that’s the hardest thing is the consistency of form that is demanded. Put in the elusive element of having the round ball hit by the round surface of the bat. Add in the ball is dropping down out of the sky, always just a little bit differently each time. Put the timing just right to create a level swing and the rest depends on whatever it is that makes the ball fall fair or foul.

One main impediment to the batter is that of a gigantic, emotional, internal battle while in the box. It’s a very short and emotion packed story for most batters, told out so seemingly the same on the surface, but oh so differently on the inside. From those first poundings of the heart as he steps into that sacred 3’X7’ prescient and surveys the enemy’s well-set domain before him, he is front stage. He’s in the center spotlight. Then the old drama begins writing itself anew, brought forth from the invisible, emotional inks from within you. It twists and floats and drops and then rises, until one way or another, you are suddenly expelled right out of there. For many senior ballplayers, this short, precious time at-bat is the main reason they go to all of the words, hype, practices and meaningless things, just to get there. Then, whoosh, it’s gone. A fly-out, or a groundout, or perhaps by that unseen hand of fate, it simply becomes a hit. Well over half of the whacks that a guy takes consummate in some sort of disappointment. It’s just hard to do, over and over.

Why do we continue to put our poor old weakening hearts through all of this stress? We know that it is a rare feat to hit the round ball just right with the round bat, and then for it to go into just the right spot. If the batter has been in a bit of a slump, then the tension has built up inside and all kinds of terrible little explosions can come erupting out. The price for finally getting to enter into the box comes high, both physically and mentally.

Becoming a batter exemplifies the tremendous inner pressures that are present within each player of this game; the skills are so fine that being off by just a fraction can ruin the play. And for the old folks, the old adage seems to be definitely true: That at least half of the game is mental and the other half is physical. As seniors, we try harder to outthink ourselves to gain some advantage, which we know is lacking in the physical realm. That’s the problem: Over thinking.

Consider a good hitter, as he gets older and wiser in the batting game and has learned to stick to certain fundamentals gathered from the continual rituals a batter must go through. Somehow it happens, he gets a little off somewhere and then tries to fix it. Something small and terrible begins to happen and then he has lost that smooth approach and things begin to really crumble. The guys tell me that in times of a slump, they pick up the bat to get into the box, dreading it. They begin thinking, "Now just what in the - am I going to do this time? I’ve got to change something, but I don’t know what. I’m thinking about this too much. I wish I could go up there and just hit the ball."

For us old guys, it’s the same old problem faced by all ballplayers all of their batting careers: The entire battle is within you and the problem is that you just can’t forget about any occasional hitches and stay on track. "Just hit the ball," they sing out; "Do this, do that," they cry out (even while you are in the box - worse place of all to give advice to a struggling hitter). If you were to shout out anything of encouragement to your bat-mate, you might just say, "Forget it!" Now that’s the kind of thing seniors should relish, a meaningless assignment and something we can do rather easily.

Does anyone ever look like they are having fun while they are in the batter’s box? They will tell you that they are out there for fun. Yet most of the seniors are worried sick thinking about it days in advance. Don’t worry about the physical injuries, it’s even worse on the psyche and that all comes to a paramedical, pressure packed head in the batter’s box. The less we talk about it, the better off we will be. Believe in your natural hitter. Now there is a final answer to this puzzle. Just get in there and keep your brain and your mouth shut; don’t remember, just see the ball. Sure sounds easy. And going blank will definitely work in our favour.

The entire thing is like an age-old stage: The softball player coming to bat actually is the main spectacle of the game. Sometimes it’s a pivotal, critical at-bat, with the entire outcome of the game hanging in the balance. Sadly, it is then when the batter naturally wishes that he could try harder, somehow put more into it. But that is the fatal flaw because it is here that the wise senior player has learned the oldest trick of the game. The opposite is true. It’s a curious and wonderful thing, that each batter must work this out in his own way. This is what makes our game great. The individual ways employed to master the seemingly same situations. It’s on the inside, coming out. Ninety percent mental and the other half physical, right?

If you have any comments, or just want to pass along something funny about our senior game, we’ll try to put them in the column. Email: grimmfamily@juno.com