George Washington Took It On the Chin Sometimes, Too

The stories we've all heard about the American Revolution are usually the happy tales, or at least the heroic ones - the Christmas night crossing of the Delaware, Jefferson's penning of the Declaration, the final victory and British surrender at Yorktown. But let's not forget that as often as not, the big-hearted but under-prepared and underfed Americans were taken to the woodshed.

Fast forward a couple hundred years. The Jitterbugs travel to the one-stopsign hamlet of Nehawka, and on the four corners around the stopsign intersection are a Methodist church, a park, a farmer's co-op ... and a baseball diamond. For the average Nehawkan youngster, that means their leisure-time options are checking soybean futures and playing hardball. It's not a hard choice. And, unfortunately for your big-hearted but somewhat under-prepared (although not malnourished, thanks to our parents' generosity and the succor of the Miller Brewing Company), all the hours of practice for those Nehawkan boys showed. It wasn't pretty.

But the Jitterbugs are a spirited crew. Later that night, back at the Roy, we rested up with our High Life while Mitch quizzed us on famous first dates, including the first typewriter patent (1868), and the first single-engine around the world flight (1981). Meanwhile Lucas treated us to an impromptu French horn recital, with the highlight (High Life?) being a rousing version of "When the Saints Go Marching In". After a good night's sleep, we made our way west, like General Washington outmanuvering Cornwallis to fight another day, and landed in the aptly named Central City.

Compared to Nehawka, Central City is a Manhattan, but it's still small enough that baseball seemed to be the primary pasttime. Although the cousins Demmel put up a number of hits, we never were able to sustain much momentum, and the Central City Shamrocks bombarded us from the first inning on.

But Central City had a beautiful park, and it was the perfect place, and perfect weather, for our first night sleeping in the outfield. Under an advertisement for Wagner Funeral Home, we spent the night like our barnstorming forebears did - under the stars.

So. We took some knocks on the chin ... but things always turn around on the Fourth of July.