Marlow shows pro face at H.S. events
Picture a crisp, warm spring day.
You're walking through a brick entryway, the classic "baseball" organ echoes through the background. You buy a paper ticket and stroll through a pretty charming little walkway, which kind of feels like a tunnel in how it stays dark for a brief moment, just before unveiling the emerald diamond that unfolds on its opposite side.
Oh, the field. It's a plush, meticulously-clipped lake of Americana. You're an impulse away from trying to swim laps in it.
Groundskeepers tell you the grass is so green and ripe because of careful nitrate application. It's thick and without dead spots beacuse the rye is watered in the winter, a concept most fans never think of while taking for granted that grass must always be burly and green, simply by nature.
Anyway, it's a dreamy field.
And the awnings cover the stands the way they should. And the chalked base lines are straight as highways. And the dirt is raked smooth as glass. And by the time you start spitting sunflower seeds into a cup and begin scribbling in your scorebook, you're basically entranced in The Game.
Welcome to Marlow. This is how it does high school baseball.