Mama Bear update

UPDATE 5/24/2013
One of my readers sent me the following message.

Mama Bear

I didn’t see this but I heard it happened in a small West Texas town in 1955 or ‘56.

The annual 4^th of July Seniors Softball Game was in the 7^th and final inning. There were other games for younger citizens but you had to be over 40 years old to play in the Seniors contest. The games weren’t intended to be taken seriously, of course. They were meant to put a couple of hours between lunch and beer time. Most of the players were in their 50’s or more and out of shape. Besides that, July was a hot, humid month. Outfielders were known to stroll rather than run after balls hit in their vicinity and this led to scores more suited to college football. Last year’s contest ended with the Red Team winning 42 to 37. Slow underhand pitching made it possible for even the ladies on the team to hit the ball with some regularity. Or put another way, it was almost as easy as Tee Ball.

This year the Blue Team was at bat, two out, bases loaded, and Bill was the hitter. He was a pretty good and even a single would bring in at least two more runs. A double would put the game away. They were leading 26 to 21 but the Red Team still had a chance to win at their next at bat if the score held. They had last bats.

The Honorable Magistrate, Larry Wilson, was the umpire as usual. He seemed a wise choice being a judge and all but he had been known to favor the underdog in these contests especially when calling balls and strikes; balancing the scales of justice, so to speak. So when Larry called Bill out on strikes, he didn’t take it too well.

He flung the bat to the ground and began yelling at Larry who wisely kept his protective mask on. “Yer outa here,” he yelled back and folded his arms across his chest. Old Bill was furious but he stomped off. The spectators thought this was so much fun. They booed good naturedly at either Bill or Larry; you couldn’t tell which. Bill didn’t make it back to the dugout. Instead he came back to home plate and got in Larry’s face again. Larry gave him the “yer out” hand signal again and puffed his chest out like a banty rooster, putting on a show for the spectators. More hoots and boos.

This didn’t sit well with Bill either. He gave Larry a hard two handed push to the chest that sent him crashing into the backstop. Now Larry’s wife, Nana, played third base and was the cleanup batter for the Red Team. While most people thought of her as a mother hen who indulged her children and her husband, no one ever thought of her as a She-Bear. But when she saw her husband crash into the backstop and Bill looking like he wasn’t done, she picked up a bat, ran over and stood between Larry and Bill. Larry recovered from the push and saw Nana winding up to swing the bat upside Bill’s head and tried to stop her. As she reared back she struck him on the backswing. She heard the "thunk" as the bat made contact with her husband’s skull and tried to stop but it was too late. As her swing came around the bat flew out of her hands into Bill’s forehead, knocking him unconscious.

A few seconds of dead silence was followed by hysterical laughter from the people in the stands. Nana stood between the two men lying on their backs over the batter’s box. Larry was the first to recover his senses and Nana checked the lump on his head. Bill’s wife, Marsha, came to her husband’s side and helped him sit up. She cupped his head in her hands then slapped him awake. Others came to help the men get on their feet. The game was called. The scorekeeper announced the beginning of the watermelon eating contest at the far end of left field.

As Nana and Marsha escorted their dazed men to left field, Nana mouthed “I’m sorry” at Marsha who only winked and gave Nana a discreet thumbs up.