Gino, King of the Batting Cages

It started with a metallic ding of the bat. Then another. Then a flurry of “dings” until finally I turned around to see just who was causing all the commotion. A giant muscular man was mashing the ball at the Van Nuys Batting Cage. And behind him stood a crowd of people watching.

“Yeah Gino!” one 17 year old boy with braces and head gear screamed.

“Gino comin’ right down the middle!” the 61 year old PA announcer from the Encino Little League shouted

“Gino yeah baby yeah!” another woman who the others called Camel Flo shouted at the top of her lungs.

I stepped out of the cage and joined the crowd to watch Gino’s prowess.

Upon asking a few questions, I learned that Gino is a Van Nuys legend and arguably one of the best batting cage hitters of all time. But I was instantly suspicious. Gino’s muscles were bulging uncomfortably from his arms. He had dime-sized zits on his back. And his lower jaw was disgustingly square.

Could it be possible that someone would "roid" up to mash at the batting cages?

I quietly said to the 17 year old, “What’s the big deal? It’s just the batting cages!”

“Dude, Gino gets so laid, look at all these chicks!”

I subtly looked around and "all these chicks" consisted of Camel Flo and her daughters Camel Jo, Camel Mo, and Camel Ro.

They stood at the cages, ever so excited for their lover Gino. The harder Gino mashed the ball, the higher the Camel sisters yanked their pants.

But it wasn’t just the Camel sisters and the 17 year old. There was a drug dealer who wreaked of cologne from Walgreens, a Thai midget with a Detroit Lions hat, and a man with a giant Rollie Fingers mustache wearing an Armani sport coat over his bare, shaved chest. I’d never seen such a strange group of odd birds.

As Gino exited the cage, the others followed him and loaded into a 1987 Dodge van for their weekly visit to Sizzler. Gino, King of the Cages, and The Odd Birds. Who woulda thunk it?

*****

Sometimes we get stuck in time, holding tight to the glory of yesteryear. Whether sharing your Little League highlights over and over (visit here to see my LL highlights) or stalking that 9th grade girlfriend on Facebook, we all get snagged in the past.  It’s scary to turn around, stand proud in the moment, and face the future.

Put a bunch of 6 year olds in the pool and in less than 3 minutes they’re jumping off each others shoulders. Put a bunch of 36 year olds (well, I should say sober 36 year olds) in a pool and it takes a while to bond. As I get older, I find it’s harder to make friends, to open my mind to fresh music, to dare to embrace new passions.

So I’d like to pose a challenge. Over the next 7 days, I challenge you to make a new friend. Whether it’s an acquaintance whom you suddenly decide to embrace…or a random person from yoga class, reach out, introduce yourself, soften your heart, and open your mind. 

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the past. History shapes our mind as scars define our character. But there’s no such thing as a past opportunity or an old synchronicity. As Robin Sharma said, “Live in the glory of your imagination, not your memories.”

Namaste

David Romanelli
www.yeahdave.com

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