As Yogi said, it’s not good to make predictions
If the damp skies over Johannesburg over the past week proved anything it was that there was all the potential that the soggy heavens would have the final say in the South African provincial baseball championships which had brought top players flooding into Egoli from around the country.
It immediately brought to mind the old Allan Sherman lyrics: Hello Muddah, hello Faddah. Here I am at Camp Grenada. Camp is very entertaining; And they say we’ll have some fun if it stops raining.
It was perhaps fortunate that the Arithmetically-challenged Golfer, who considers himself a fount of all sporting knowledge, had the good fortune to have Tex at his side.
Tex, a baseball man of long standing, had taken a sabbatical from many years of frenetic involvement of tournaments like this, a break he was clearly enjoying.
“Just chilling out and hoping to watch some baseball,” was his cryptic comment, even though his son was turning out with Gauteng colours on his back.
It was also fortunate that Tex, a mild and quietly-spoken man until some unfortunate pokes a stick into his personal hornet’s nest, was there to raise a quizzical eyebrow at some of the Arithmetically-challenged One’s more bizarre theories about the game Babe Ruth and Joe Di Maggio made famous.
The inclement weather, while it gave the scheduling committee untold headaches – and it might be added, Tex some anxious glances at the unforgiving heavens above – provided ample opportunity for the Arithmetically-challenged One to deliver some ill-timed and ill-considered one liners.
“What happens,” he inquired of the by now long-suffering Tex, “if it keeps on raining? Does everyone who arrived share the title”? And, while he thought this was hilarious, few others saw the funny side.
“Don’t hassle,” he said. “It will clear up and they’ll start playing.”
The Arithmetically-challenged One, gazed upwards, shook his head and looked extremely dubious as Thursday’s play was rained out, but as so often happens on the Highveld, the following day arrived in blazing sunlight ... and the games were on.
“Told you there would be play.” said Tex, “Gauteng is different especially when it comes to the weather.
In this he unconsciously echoed one of Giants catching great Yogi Berra’s famous remark that “it’s tough to make predictions, especially about the future”.
The finals were duly fought out across two divisions the following day – again a scorcher – with the normal toasts, postmortems and promises of handing out revenge next time round” hanging heavy in the air after it was all over.
“I knew it would all work out,” said Tex, who despite watching his son’s Gauteng side come out on the wrong side of the final against Western Province, seemed perfectly happy to have just “chilled out and watched some baseball”.
And as he walked away, the closing line’s of Sherman’s song seemed to echo across the now vacant baseball diamonds below: Wait a minute! It’s stopped hailing. Guys are swimming. Guys are sailing. Playing baseball. Gee! That’s better. Muddah, Fadduh, kindly disregard this letter!