My Feet Hurt

 “Just Thinking”

My feet hurt, not every day and not all the time, but often enough to remind me that the years of abuse may are catching up with them. With the help of orthotics and a good pair of sturdy shoes, they do okay.

Last weekend, I attended the SI alumni baseball game, with some of my friends and teammates. It was a beautiful day at the ballpark and my first time checking out the Fairmont facility. The current Wildcat squad are loaded with talent, and the alumni who suited up weren’t that far removed from their playing days. The game itself hasn’t changed, but just about everything around it has.

The biggest transformation? The field. Today’s team plays on a multi-sport synthetic turf, a flawless surface that never takes a bad hop, doesn’t need raking or watering, won’t get your uniform dirty or blow dust in your eyes and teeth. There are multiple covered batting cages, letting players get in reps no matter the weather. And those aluminum alloy bats? A world away from the wood and first-generation “Thumpers” that we used to swing.

But what really caught my eye, and brings me back to my opening line, were the spikes that the players wear. These aren’t just cleats; they’re high-tech athletic shoes. Lightweight, multi-colored and cushioned, built like a cross between a running shoe and a basketball sneaker. Some have molded soles, others metal spikes, but all are engineered for support and comfort. Worn over athletic socks, a far cry from what we used to lace up.

Back in the day, we wore Riddell kangaroo spikes, made from kangaroo leather uppers with stitched leather soles. They came only in black, until the “Swinging A’s” introduced white spikes. We wore them over sanitary socks, those thin white liners worn beneath our colored stirrups. There was no arch support, no cushioning, just flat soles that soaked up every ounce of moisture on those cold, foggy days at West Sunset Park. Just a thin layer of cotton between our soles and the hard, damp earth. No wonder my feet hurt.

Today’s players also benefit from dry-fit undershirts and nylon uniforms that wick away sweat and keep them performing at peak levels, no matter the conditions.

It’s funny, I don’t just think of feet when I watch old baseball documentaries. I think of foot health when I watch war movies too. In Patton, soldiers slog through mud and snow in heavy leather boots with wool socks. In Platoon, GIs wade through swamps in canvas-and-leather jungle boots with wet socks and trench foot not far behind. And then there’s the Revolutionary War, soldiers wore rough leather shoes, that would quickly wear out in the cold, the wet, and the miles. At Valley Forge, many were barefoot, wrapping their feet in rags or burlap. Some accounts describe bloody footprints in the snow, a haunting image of frostbite and desperation. Washington himself pleaded Congress for shoes, stockings, and blankets.

And then there are cowboy movies, a rider crossing a river, filling his boots with water, then spending days in soaked leather boots. If he stops to empty the water out of his boots, he then has to try to pull on a wet leather boot.

What about high heels, glamourous yes, but ouch.

Let me know what you think.

@ChuckBarberini - #ChuckBarberiniRealEstate - @ChuckBarberiniRealEstate

@Golden_State_Guide_Service - @Citizen.Number.One