Good ol' sport The pleasures of vintage base ball by Robert Grindy

On Memorial Day weekend out on "BeautifulTrobaughField" in Decatur, the tally board showed the Rock Springs Ground Squirrels with two aces and the Honored Guests, the Indianapolis Blues, with three aces in the third inning, one hand dead, and runners on first and second base. The Blues striker cracked a long fly out my way in left field, the tan ball disappearing for a moment in the backdrop of trees. Should I try for it one bound, which would allow the runners to advance but put the striker out, unless the ball hit a mole hill and didn't bound true. . . or should I try for it on the fly, a harder catch that would send the runners back to their bags?

The stiff wind bending the big bluestem made my decision for me: the ball carried so far my only play was to back up quickly and reach up over my head for the fly, but the ball skipped off my bare hands and into the deep grass on the edge of the outfield. With the ball the same color as the undergrowth, it took a few desperate moments of searching before I could dig it out and fling it back to the rover. All hands were safe; the tally bell rang twice for the visitors; huzzahs sprang from the cranks on both sides for the well-struck ball.

I avoided a 2 5-cent fine only because I was so far from the umpire he couldn't hear my muttered curses. "Fine attempt, sir," said "Harmless" Harold, our midfielder.

I returned to my position and took stock. I hadn't caught the ball, but neither had I broken a finger or lost a $40 ball in the weeds, so it wasn't a completely unsuccessful play. My teammates had applauded the effort, and there on our patch of prairie, it was still a lovely spring day. I had plenty to be grateful for.

So it goes in vintage base ball, a recreation of the grand old game as it was played in the mid-nineteenth century, three parts athletic contest to one part historical theater, now performed from Connecticut to Colorado. Teams like the Great Black Swamp Frogs and the Greenfield Village La-de-dahs play with the rules, equipment, uniforms, and customs of early base ball clubs. In Illinois, a half dozen teams play regularly, and new groups are building interest.

Vintage base ball in Illinois began in 1992, when R. Lee Slider, then cultural interpreter at Decatur's Rock Spring Center, part of the Macon County Conservation District, accepted an invitation to bring a group to the Ohio Village in Columbus, where vintage ball in the Midwest had begun ten years earlier. The small band of volunteers he rounded up had little idea how to play but quickly caught on and just as quickly fell in love with the game.

Articles on the game between the Ohio Village Muffins and the Rock Springs Ground Squirrels, as the Macon County group dubbed itself, appeared in the Wall Street Journal and the in-flight magazine of Southwest Airlines, broadcasting the Squirrels' impromptu battle cry of "chee chee chee!" coast to coast. "We were famous before we were a team," Slider says. "We decided we better do something to live up to our reputation."

Researching base ball in Decatur, Slider found that in September 1867 the town "went base ball crazy" with the Great Western Base Ball Tournament. "Along with the game accounts, the newspapers were filled with humorous stories about the perils of the game," Slider says. "Broken fingers, sore muscles, exhausted lungs— not much has changed."

By 1994, the Ground Squirrels had fashioned uniforms authentic to the day and created BeautifulTrobaughField (pronounced as one word) on a patch of mowed prairie near the Homestead Prairie Farm, an 1860s site at Rock Springs Center. Slider, in his role as homestead proprietor Joe Trobaugh, was "team owner," and the Ground Squirrels were off and running—slowly, to be sure, as the average age of the early players was well in the forties.

"We needed lots of enthusiasm in those first few years," says Bob "Droopy Drawers" Sampson, "because our performance in the field and at the plate was, to put it kindly, lacking."

For first-time players and "cranks" (fans), the vintage game can be difficult but is certainly entertaining. Customs vary from field to field (as they did in the 19th century), but most Midwestern teams follow the rules and gentlemanly codes of conduct of the earliest clubs such as the New York Knickerbockers, who began playing organized matches for exercise and recreation in 1846.

The Vintage Base Ball Association, with more than 40 member teams in 13 states, has led the way in researching the rules and customs through club records, existing rule books, and newspaper accounts of games. VBBA newsletters are filled with debates over such arcane but important points as to whether stealing was allowed or how far from a bag the baseman must stand, but Illinois teams play by standards established by the VBBA as authentic to 1858-1860.

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Under these rules, the "hurler" - delivers the ball underhand to the "striker," who can wait for a pitch to his liking, as no balls or strikes are called, except for pitches swung on and missed. Strikers can be put out (a "hand dead") if the ball is caught on the fly or on one bound, or if tagged or forced out as in modern ball. There is no stealing, sliding, tagging up, or over-running any base. "Aces" (runs) aren't officially registered until the scoring player asks the scorekeeper for permission to tally and then rings the tally bell.

Fielding is bare handed: "No Gloves, No Fear" says a popular VBBA T-shirt. The ball, custom made by a few small companies, is slightly larger and a bit softer than modern baseballs but nonetheless can crack fingers on whistling line drives. The bats are, of course, wooden and vary from enormous shillelaghs to short, thick-handled clubs.

Although the bases are a lung-busting 90 feet apart, vintage fields aren't often spacious. Trees, buildings, and creeks are often in play, and overthrown balls or long strikes are chased down over fences, through bushes, and into the crowd.

Many players are former slow-pitch players tired of the cut-throat competition and endless sniping of city-league softball. While the vintage games are competitive and tightly contested, the emphasis is on sportsmanship. Opponents are congratulated on fine plays. Arguing with the esteemed umpire, who stands off to one side of the plate, is not allowed, and it is not uncommon for the umpire to appeal to the players for help in determining a play. Players have been known to call themselves out, even when it costs their team the game. Good-natured fines of 25 cents are levied for swearing, spitting, arguing, or any other action the umpire deems inappropriate.

But the mission for vintage base ball teams goes beyond recreation for players, as many teams are educational outreach programs of historical sites and museums. For costumed first-person interpreters at "living history" programs, its a short step from demonstrating period crafts and lifestyle to reenacting a popular past time of the day. Typically, team rosters begin with site staff and volunteers, then friends and family are recruited, and, with a little publicity, interested community members join up. Costumed interpreters often fill the crowds as cranks, bringing the nineteenth century closer to life for spectators.

The Carriage Hill Clodhoppers and the Rock Springs Ground Squirrels get instructions before the 2001 Stephen A. Douglas Cup games.

Since 1992, vintage base ball has grown slowly but steadily in Illinois, with one team nurturing the formation of another. Beginning with a few games against established teams such as the Deep River Grinders in Hobart, Indiana, plus pick-up games against local teams at festivals, the Ground Squirrels expanded their schedule and roster year by year. This summer 22 Squirrels—including 3 women, a rarity in vintage ball— will play some 30 games from May to October.

The quiet life of small towns in Illinois seems particularly suited to vintage base ball, as the newest Illinois team hails from the village of Creston, population 500, up north in Ogle County. The Creston Regulators, named for nineteenth century vigilante squads, began practice earlier this summer and hope to play several games this season. Organized by Fred Johnsen, a local newspaper editor, the Regulators are a true community team, with sponsorship from the Creston Booster Club, Park District, and Village Board.

Up the road in Rockford, another new team is recruiting players and designing uniforms. After playing the Ground Squirrels last year, the Midway Village Marauders are looking for three or four games this year. Dave Oberg, the Education Resource Manager at Midway Village and Museum Center, is excited about the long-term prospects. "I think vintage base ball could become the next big thing, like Civil War reenactments," he says.

Whether affiliated with historic centers or formed by messianic fans, vintage teams have a common goal—a creed even, repeated wherever two or more gather: "Bring base ball back to the way it was meant to be played." For vintage players that goes far beyond funny hats and sore hands but means rekindling the spirit of sports before the age of professionalism and commercialism.

In the bottom of the ninth inning of the Ground Squirrels-Blues match, the Squirrels led by a run and had the last at bat. Even with the game decided, both teams elected to play out the last half inning. And then played three more.

"Gentlemen—and ladies," the umpire called out at the end of the match, "for the glory of the game: huzzah!"

—Robert "Paydirt" Grindy plays left field for the Rock Springs Ground Squirrels.

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