I had the enjoyable opportunity to go to a kids baseball tournament the end of July. It was held at the ball fields at Michael Griffin Park in Manchester.
The Manchester people that put on the tournament also did concessions, kept the fields in great shape and did contests such as the home run derby. It was a wonderful time.
My grandson was in the 7- and 8-year-old tournament. It was nice, good sportsmanship, team bonding, watching my grandson, Charlie, enjoy the great game of baseball, and laugh and cheer with his team. They also enjoyed the playground while not playing baseball.
Now, the reason for my post. After everything was over with our Canandaigua team, I went to get in my car and realized I had locked my keys in it. I waited when I called my daughter to look for my spare key, but alas no key. I waited for three hours (AAA couldn’t find the park), and numerous people from the Manchester group putting the tournaments on came up to me and asked me if they could help me. I was offered rides home from some, bottles of water and conversations along with helpful suggestions. Even as AAA arrived, one last person swung by to make sure I was OK.
When I was finally driving home, I reflected on my views of community, camaraderie and human kindness, I found out my views had changed. I thought they were lost with my small hometown youth, but after watching several age groups play baseball for three days in this small Ontario County town, watching all the families rally around their children and talking with the fine people that ran that tournament, I realized that all three were alive and well and living in Manchester. Thanks to all!