Play BALL!

 

There was a time when local residents rushed out to Madge Lake for Sunday afternoon baseball and fastball games.

In the old days, before my time, it was baseball with the Kamsack Cyclones. In the 70's and 80's it was fastball. My uncle Lloyd played along with other contemporaries with last names like Bowes, Erhardt and Sas. 

We would go out as an entire family to cheer them on, Grandma and Grandpa included. Some of the kids, intent on playing in the water would head to Ministik Beach while the rest of us would grab a bag of sunflower seeds and settle in to cheer on our hometown team. We sat in the bleachers while the older folks sat in their lawn chairs in whatever shade was available.

I always wondered why people parked so close to the ball diamond. Foul balls were inevitable and the chance of the ball making contact with a car body or windshield was pretty high. Winnie Mitchell has a memory of chasing after those balls and turning them in for a small reward of some kind. 

On those busy Sundays, parking was at a premium. Vehicles would be everywhere, most people vying for a shady spot. Getting into a vehicle that had been sitting in the sun all day was not a pleasant experience in those days. Air conditioning was a rare accoutrement. 

The backstop, or a version of it, is still in place, though not much more. The stands are gone. The outfield fence is a thing of the past as are the base paths. In fact, unless you look very closely, you would never know it was a baseball diamond. 

Up the hill, beyond the trees is still the rec centre. On Sundays it would host a Catholic mass, for those of us from St. Stephen's and elsewhere who were camped at the lake. My last memory of such a service was the day after a rather raucous yukaflux party.  Several people in that service struggled to make it through without passing out, beads of sweat rolling down their brows. As a designated driver, I was one of the lucky ones able to enjoy the Sunday with all it offered. 

Warren and I did a nice walk in the afternoon, from the boat launch all the way over to Pickerel Point and beyond to St. Michael's Camp.

A lot is somewhat familiar but more has changed. We would spend weeks of the summer at the lake, using our 1956 International camper bus as our base of operations. 

As we walked and drove around, memories popped up and details of Madge Lake came back into focus after decades of being rather fuzzy.