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Softball has come a long way, baby, from a fast game for big boys to a slower game for just about everybody.
Dan Smith
There was a time when “softball” in the Roanoke Valley was defined by large crowds, near-100-mph fastballs, no-hit doubleheaders and adult male athletes whose names were as well known locally as those of Virginia Tech football players.
That was 30 or more years ago. Over the years since, “slow-pitch” has become the coin of the realm and what was a near-professional sport here has become one mostly for weekend warriors of wildly varying skill levels, for families, for circles of friends, for fully accepting lifestyles that are as varied as the skill levels.
Charlie Hammersley, recently retired head of the Salem recreation department, says that even though softball players’ numbers are slightly down overall in the Roanoke Valley (“People are playing more golf, I think,” he says) there are still plenty of teams and leagues around. Hammersley played in the fast-pitch heyday when a few played at a high level. He sees multitudes enjoying themselves these days and celebrates the change.
The Salem Recreation Department, long known for its successful softball tournaments, coordinates the valley’s efforts in that respect. John Shaner, who directs the department, estimates that Roanoke City has 50-60 slow-pitch league teams, Roanoke County has 40-50 and Salem has an average of about 30. At 15 players per team and 120 teams on the low end, that would be a conservatively estimated 1,800 softball players in those three jurisdictions playing through the rec departments. There are also church leagues and various junior highs, high schools and two colleges have fast pitch girl/women players and there are a few fast pitch girls travel teams.
That’s a lot of softball, but the fact is that it’s not nearly what it was 20 years ago.
“From 1997 to about 2001, we generally had about 200 teams for a [slow-pitch] softball tournament at the Moyer Complex [in Salem],” says Shaner. “That’s down to about 130 now for the biggest tournament, the Chance Crawford,” in April. That tournament is still one of the biggest in the East, but, says Shaner, “There’s just so much more for people to do now.”
The Roanoke Valley—principally because of Salem’s initial efforts under Hammersley’s leadership—was out front in using softball as a lure for visitors, and it remains a leader, though “the jurisdictions around us are building facilities that are [truly impressive],” says Shaner. “We stay competitive because we have good facilities and we look to bring people into the Valley to play tournaments because that’s all new money for us.”
The game can be expensive for the players: there is, of course, the cost of travel (hotels, meals, gas, etc.), the team cost of tournament entry fees ($350 seems about average) and then the cost of getting started. Bats run about $300, gloves $200, shoes $50-$100, but, says player Shaun Scott, “equipment doesn’t make the player. I try to keep costs at a reasonable level.”
A close look at softball in the Roanoke Valley has led us to some conclusions: Softball has truly become a game for Americans, one where they can relax or excel, can be gay or straight, black or white or brown, rich or poor, professional or blue collar, married or single, beer drinker or latte sipper. They can be as young as 10 or as old as 86—in this story. They are all welcome.
Here are some of those who play locally:
Damage and Recovery
Morgan McAfee, 31, served two tours of duty in Afghanistan in combat “casualty care” and still suffers occasional bouts of post-traumatic stress disorder. Her day there consisted of helping wounded—sometimes grievously—soldiers. Softball “helps me deal with it. Some days I have anxiety and softball helps me forget it and not focus on it. I’ve tried a lot of things; this works best.”
McAfee is the women’s fast-pitch softball coach at William Fleming High School and is the single mother of two children. She’s been playing ball for 20 years. Her father, well known umpire Mac McCadden, and brother have been heavily involved in athletics, as well.
Like so many other players, McAfee has found home and family on the diamond.
“There was a homeless woman who was at one of our tournaments,” she says, “and we helped get her back on her feet. This is a support system, even for those who don’t play.”
For her, the comfort level is like this: “You walk into a tournament like you’re walking into a bar and by the third game, you feel like you’re in a bar anyway.”
Retired Roanoke County Fire Chief Rick Burch is 65 now, thrice-married (“I’ve bought the same house three times”) and he’s had two aftermarket knees and one shoulder. The hips are looking a little dicey, too. Some of that had to do with softball. “It wears on you,” he says.
He began playing at 20 when he got home from Vietnam (where he won a Bronze Star). He had been a high school football player and dabbled in track and basketball, but softball became a sports home for him when he joined the fire department in Richmond. He played for 25 years and helped set up the team from the fire department here after taking the RCFD job. He’s coaching now, retiring from playing “when I moved here [for the fire chief job] because I just didn’t have time.”
It has been a game that helped give him perspective.
Bill Adams, a 64-year-old Woods Rogers litigation paralegal, was born with polio and has been proving all his life that the dread disease doesn’t have to prohibit activity. He grew up playing various kinds of ball on recreation teams and in high school helped form the Vandals, a softball team of Patrick Henry High athletes who played in the Roanoke City open league. He hikes and bikes extensively these days.
He still plays, mostly pitching and asking for a substitute base runner, but “polio has never been a problem.” His polio doctor when he was a child was the team physician (and part owner) for the Boston Red Sox, he says. The doc operated on Bill several times.
During season, softball can consume a good bit of time, he says, but a lot of that “is cooking hot dogs and drinking beer. It’s social for us.”
Old Timers
Charlie Hammersley and Kelly Minton are a couple of aging notables from the fast-pitch era that some would term “legendary.” Minton, who is 86 and still coaches, pitched for 45 years and threw five perfect games, had 15,000 strikeouts and more than 100 no-hitters. He lives in Bedford now, and played mostly for teams east of Roanoke, but was a member of the Scrappers and was on a Bedford team that finished seventh nationally. He played his last game at 78. He is in the Piedmont Virginia Softball Hall of Fame.
Hammersley, 66, was a well-known Salem athlete—mostly for football—when he picked up softball at 19. He played until he was 45, going to the nationals in 1984 with Oak Hall. His son, who was his teammate for a while, and his grandkids have played softball, as well, and are/have been well-known athletes.
Hammersley says that in 1987-’88, Salem alone had 14 fast-pitch teams and there are none left today.
“Salem had leagues for a long time,” says Hammersley. “My dad played in an industrial league.” Those teams were often populated by former college and professional baseball players and some outstanding high school players. “I see the same thing happening to slow-pitch now that happened to fast-pitch with the shrinking numbers.”
Minton’s wife of 66 years, Peggy, was not a softball fan and “she didn’t go to the games,” but his five kids did. Minton says the game helped him stay in shape and even today, he looks like he could pitch a few innings. “I was never seriously injured,” he says, “but I did break my ankle once and the doc said I’d never play again. I was back playing the next year.” It was in his blood.
Couples
Amber Smith and Kelly Waskewicz met at the Chance Crawford Softball Tournament and have been a couple ever since. They are engaged and Amber already calls Kelly “my wife.” They share a small child who finds his own community at tournaments and seems to enjoy having two moms. Kelly played fast-pitch softball in college and Amber has been a player for quite a while. Amber finds the togetherness is healthy for the young family.
“There are a lot of girls traveling with their guys, watching, and they are miserable,” she says. “It’s good if both of you play.” Teams are often thrown together from a big player pool at the last minute for tournaments, opening up the opportunity to meet a lot of new people, says Amber.
Shaun Scott, 34, and Kayla Dean, 30, didn’t meet playing softball, but the sport figured into the immediate strength of their relationship. She had been a solid travel fast-pitch player in high school and he had played baseball almost since he could walk.
“I always had a passion for baseball,” says Scott, “but as I aged, my body couldn’t handle it.” Dean talked Scott into joining her on a co-ed team, in addition to the men’s team he was playing on, and harmony ensued.
“We’re competitive,” says Dean, noting that softball offers “a stress-relief lifestyle.”
Families
Brandon and Marcel Jackson had their engagement photos shot on a softball field in Roanoke County and now travel with their baby to games. “There are a lot of wives and children at the games and it provides a solid social grounding,” says Marcel. “It’s very healthy.”
At 22, Brandon is a serious player with professional aspirations, but the game allows him and his family to travel a good bit “and we see big and small cities and to do things we wouldn’t do otherwise.” Brandon ran the bases in Myrtle Beach with his son in his arms when the youngster was a month old.
“All my friends play softball,” says Brandon. “I played with my dad for six years and my brother for five years. Dad is an umpire now.”
Dustin and Caitlin Campbell are a father-daughter team these days. He’s 50 and still plays slow pitch and coaches girls fast-pitch. Caitlin is 15 and plays a high level of travel fast-pitch, preferring that to her high school team because “it’s a much better brand of softball.” It’s also costly, time consuming and brings father/daughter closer.
Caitlin says bluntly that she wants “to make a name for myself. I want young girls to look up to me and I want to see them as excited as I am to play.” Dustin, deputy chief of the Roanoke County Fire Department, played adult baseball until 2000 and picked up men’s travel softball in 1996. He played mostly with and against EMS colleagues.
For the Campbells “it’s year-round, practice once or twice a week for three or four hours,” and can consume as much as 15 hours a week, says Dustin. He has played with a bat and a ball (“we used to play with a wiffle ball until sundown after school”) since he was a kid and “it taught me values and gave me a passion.”
Zatonya Chase, 38, and Damon Gregory, 34, and their kids and Zatyra, 14, and Demonio, 17, are a real presence at softball tournaments. Gregory works at Wells Fargo and Chase is employed at United Health Care. They were noted athletes at Woodrow Wilson Junior High and Patrick Henry High. But it is softball that brings them all together, sometimes in bits and pieces.
When the family moved to Roanoke from Detroit, says Chase, softball gave them entree into the community. Zaytra finds that the slow-pitch game, as different as it is, still helps with her school softball because the players are older and better and she must play to their level. And, “I like playing with my mom.”
Serious Players
Jordan Clifton, who is 20 now, is still hanging on to that feeling she got when her Cave Spring High School fast-pitch team won the state championship in 2013. She was a member of an exceptional class, one that finished 19-1 one year, was unbeaten another and went to state and regional finals.
“I get the same joy I had in high school playing year-round,” she says. “Softball is an adrenaline rush for me. There is a great feeling, being there with friends.”
Her social life revolves around the relationships from softball, a sport she has played in one form or another since she was 5. She especially enjoys playing co-ed ball because she says she doesn’t have to hold anything back. “I play better with the guys,” she says. “They are on my skill level and I don’t have to worry about hurting them.”
Clifton says she had five college offers when she left high school, but none offered a major she wanted. She is a phlebotomist (a medical professional who draws blood).
Cody Ennis is a 23-year-old Lynchburg factory worker who plays on teams in his home city and in the Roanoke Valley, filling up his free time with softball. He’s been playing softball for five years after being a good high school baseball player.
He plays on men’s teams and co-ed teams and finds both competitive. “Some of the girls are built like men and hit like men,” he says. The game, he says, “offers a good workout and is often for a good cause.” The goal, he says, is “to stay in shape and enjoy what I love and really, ultimately, just enjoy [the game] and mostly the workout.”
At a time when the nation seems especially divided, softball is giving people the opportunity to capture a time when a community was truly a community.
... for more from our July/August 2017 issue, Subscribe today, view our FREE interactive digital edition or download our FREE iOS app!