Construction is underway, and it’s not looking good for my fellow ball collectors.
(Copyrighted photo courtesy of Al Yellon at Bleed Cubbie Blue.)
No one’s really sure just how high the new bleachers will rise, or how many balls they’ll rob from the guys who hang out on Waveland and Sheffield Avenues. (You can view more pics and join the discussion about it here. Check out ballhawk.com, too.) I feel bad for them. It’s not a “more for me/less for you” thing. They’ve been doing THEIR thing for decades, and now it’s all about to change.
Last night, I took 50 balls over to my parents’ place. Only 271 more (from this season), and then my TINY apartment will be ball-free. I’d like to take them all over at once, but at three per pound, they’re too heavy.
I struggled to find a spot for the 50 balls. All my drawers and barrels are full. I didn’t want to leave the balls out in the open–I think the air/light/dust would be bad for them over time–so I squeezed them into a duffel bag already stuffed with balls. But now? I have no idea where I’m gonna put the rest. I think I might have one more empty barrel in the basement, but even that’ll be difficult. As it is, the four barrels are taking over my old bedroom. I can’t imagine adding another.
Click here for Part 1.
This is what the bag looks like now, stuffed with all 321 balls that I caught this season:
And this is what it looked like when I dumped them out:
And THIS is what it looked like when I spread them out on the floor:
Yes, free time.
I love winter.