The LuLac Edition #5, 457, October 1st, 2025

WRITE ON WEDNESDAY

Our “Write on Wednesday” logo

This week as the baseball playoffs start, I’d like to share a personal story about something I thought I lost but later found. This week I am the WOW contributor as I relate my time as a softball player back in the day. 

A RETRIEVED MEMORY

Today starts the Major League baseball play-offs and I felt it appropriate to share this story. It is a Wilkes-Barre softball story.

During the pandemic I organized my large size clothes and donated it to various charities in Wilkes-Barre and the Wyoming Valley. Needless to say if there was a beefy needy guy around he was styling.

Everything that was an XL or larger was gone.

Now for the softball part. When I moved to Wilkes-Barre in the 80s I answered an ad in the Voice asking anyone interested in playing softball for the City Hall baseball. After all, I was a Government major at King’s. The team was meeting at Boris’ Bar and me,  this stranger showed up. The late Bill Brace was at first gracious but then when I meekly ordered a Tab (now Diet Coke) Brace, surrounded by the Bees with copious quantities of beer started to buzz and eye me suspiciously. 

“Are you some kind of a  (expletive deleted)?”Brace asked when I sipped my Tab. 

“Are you a good ballplayer?" I answered that I played first and caught, threw lefty but batted right because I was blind in my left eye. So I’m somewhat mediocre”.

The Bees started  buzzing in the vernacular that today that can be described for polite company as WTF.

Brace put his arms and said. “You don’t drink, huh? Never touch the stuff?”

“Nope”, I said.

After a few consultations with  Rich Muessig, Bubba Fine  and Rick Sorokas he said, “We won't put you in unless we are really desperate. Other teams have a designated hitter but can you be out designated driver juat in case we celebrate too much?”

And that’s how I became a Killer Bee.

When Bill passed away I was sorry I threw away my Bees uniform top with the fat clothes.

Or had I?

For the last 5 years in the upstairs hallway there was a Price Chopper bag hanging on a closet door that was rarely opened. It was passed by, dusted around and ignored until last week when I thought, “what the hell is in that bag?” 

Much to many surprise, it was my  Bees jersey.  I was thrilled, excited and tried it on. Mrs. FB said, “Your friend Brace is saying, “Yonk eee (that’s how he pronounced  my name , “What the **** took ya so long!!!?”

It now resides in my office at Wilkes-Barre city hall coming full circle after all these years. 

As Bill would say, 

PLAY BALL!!!