05/15/2026
At long last, it is finally spring. Everything is in bloom, and the air is filled with the songs of birds dancing across the sky. The poet E.E. Cummings once penned, “Spring is like a perhaps hand coming carefully out of nowhere.” After a long winter, this spring is especially welcome.
It isn’t just the birdsong you can hear along the banks of the Deep River. The Deep River Grinders are back at it; laughing, hitting the ball, and shaming each other once more. Grinder Field is coming back to life. “The Cradle of Midwest Vintage Base Ball” for me and nearly 200 cranks and players who cross the bridge on game days; that experience, the culmination of birdsong, the sounds of base ball, and the umpire shouting “Striker to the mark,” brings a smile that lasts all summer.
The Deep River Grinders aren’t just a vintage base ball team; it’s a community. For me, it means friends standing in the parking lot and talking for hours after practice or showing up in the toughest moments for those you shamed on Sunday. For others, it means a picnic with friends and family, some of whom you only see on game days in the summer. It means enjoying the play on the field while engaging in the decades-old debate: who is better, the White Sox or the Cubs, when the correct answer is always the Reds.
But this is Grinder Field, where we play a game we fell in love with as kids and, as adults, play with childlike joy. The game of base ball was played long before any of us were born and will be played long after we set the bat down.
This summer, as you cross the bridge, I encourage you all to take a step back, take a deep breath, and enjoy Grinder Field and all that makes this place special.
