A Field Where Dreams Come True E-mail
Written by G. Sam Piatt   
ImageThere was a tightness, even a bit of pain, in his 55-year-old knees when he squatted, but Bob “Shag” Bryson nevertheless strapped on the catcher’s equipment and got behind the plate.

The regular catcher couldn’t make it for this doubleheader and no one else was willing to catch, but the game must go on.

And indeed the games have been going on at Bearcat Stadium – on and on and on.

Bryson was 15 that summer of 1967 when he bush-hogged a baseball field out of the family’s cow pasture and organized a pickup game with the boys living in the Schultz Creek Valley of southwestern Greenup County. These were boys who, like Bryson, loved playing the game of baseball. In their wildest dreams they even made it to Cincinnati to play for the Reds. Bryson never shirked his after-school duties working in the family business – the A.H. Bryson & Sons General Store, located across State Route 784 from the field – nor did he forsake his obligations to maintain his field of dreams and, most importantly, schedule games. Forty summers later he’s still going and the “boys of summer” are still coming – coming to answer the call to “play ball!”

The team’s oldest player is Curt Fletcher, 61, from the Wurtland-Raceland area. He’s been playing with the Bearcats for 20 years. “There’s no set age to retire from the game,” said Fletcher as he took a seat by Bryson in the dugout. “I still love playing baseball and I’ll play until my body tells me I can’t.”

Not all the players are old timers. Sometimes teenagers, eager to play on the Bearcat field, can be seen filling in at various positions.

You can hear the crack of the bat practically every Sunday afternoon from April through September. The field is more immaculate than ever. With the family tractor, Bryson keeps the infield dirt dragged and smooth and the grass clipped and trimmed – looking better, actually, than some high school diamonds. In fact, the team from nearby

Harvest Christian High School plays its home games there.

The “stadium” has hosted more than 1,000 games. Thousands of different players have played for the Bearcats off and on. Bryson could tell you the exact number if you wanted. He has dutifully kept score books of every game.

In fact, he could tell you what his career batting average is, how many hits he has, how many home runs, how many runs batted in and what his won-lost record is in pitching. He’s played all nine positions.

“I haven’t been keeping a running tally on those things the past few years, but it’s all in the books,” he said. “I’ve got around 289 pitching victories, probably 1,300 to 1,400 hits and about that same number of runs batted in.”

He could tell you that Fletcher was the team’s hottest hitter at the start of the current season.

“Curt went 11 for 19 in May,” he said. “We’d be in better shape if we had a few more hitting like him.”

The team itself wasn’t off to such a good start. On the last Sunday in May, the Ashland Yankees wound up taking a doubleheader from the Bearcats, dropping their record to 0-9. Their best year came in 1992 when they posted a 53-11 record.

Yankee catcher Dwain Porter, 46, of Ashland, said he’s been playing baseball games at Bryson’s field for 16 years.

“We’re a little better organized now,” Porter said. “We’re in the River Cities Baseball League, which has eight teams.”

Bryson retired seven years ago from his teaching job at Greenup County High School where he also coached the girls’ varsity basketball team. He and his wife Linda have two grown children and live in a log home just up the road from the field. Passers-by often see him on the field with a rake, a shovel or a mower, working to keep it in perfect playing condition.

The “crowd” is usually made up of the players from both teams, along with a few wives and girlfriends. Now and then, a herd of Appaloosas watches the action while grazing in the pasture on the other side of the right field fence.

“You’re up, Shag!” someone shouts.

He picks up a Louisville slugger, stuffs a fresh wad of Red Man into his jaw, and heads for the plate. ­­

 
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