Categories: Dobel Street
Don't let it be anymore
Somebody hit a ball over the backstop and across French Road during a batting-practice session at Fletcher Field last Sunday.
A little pooped from the previous day's festivities -- our second annual barbecue at the park -- I was just watching from the bleachers along first base. So I got up, crossed the road, found the ball in the high grass along the City Airport fence line and then tossed it back into the park.
On my way back to the bleachers, I spotted a discarded tire near the Fletcher Field fence line and decided I didn't want to leave it there. I put the tire back on its treads and started to roll it toward a dumpster on the Gilbo side of the park, which was put there the day before for cleaning up after the barbecue.
It took me about 5 minutes to get to the dumpster, with the tire wobbling most of the way and falling altogether occasionally. I then picked up the tire and heaved it upward to get it over the dumpster's 8-foot wall. Before I did this, I should have checked the interior of the tire.
It was full of dirty water, which splashed all over me -- hair, face, shirt, pants. I was a mess.
As I headed back toward the baseball diamond, somebody along the route took one look at me and asked me what happened. I told him of my stupidity, that I should have known the tire was full of water.
He then offered this: "Why didn't you just leave it (the tire) where it was?"
For some reason, what he said struck a sour note with me, really fired me up.
"That's the problem," I shot back. "Everybody leaves it."
We just can't leave it anymore.
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