On a beautiful evening in late June, a baseball game was played at Holcom Red. The Senators faced the Athletics in Heinrich League competition. The temperature had dropped into the low 80s, there was no wind, and the sky was dotted with clouds.

The Senators jumped out to a two-run lead. Each team added runs as the game progressed into a tight contest. The script of this game was the same as in any of a hundred games played this year around Lawrence. Hits, stolen bases, walks, strikeouts, errors, shouts of encouragement, pleading, outstanding plays and your basic, ordinary plays.

This game was different. It was the last night of the Senators’ season, and they were still looking for a win. So when the bottom of the seventh rolled around, the Senators were hanging onto a lead. One just knew this was going to be that storybook ending where the team pulled out the win and justified all the hard work, bumps, bruises, blood, sweat and tears.

Flash back to February: three football players, a hockey player, a lacrosse player, a paintball sharpshooter, a tennis player, a golfer, a skateboarder, a singer and a video gamer all joined together to form a baseball team coached by a salesman, a publisher, a journalist, an architect, and a university professor Sound like the start of a joke? How soon would we get comparisons to “The Bad News Bears”?

Perhaps the first mistake was to name a team after a Major League franchise, which had failed in Washington so many years ago. Regardless, like all seasons, this one started off with excitement and promise. The players were eager to play America’s pastime.

Some of the young men hadn’t played the game for several years. Some had never played beyond the recreational level. It didn’t matter. There was baseball to be played. Baseball played with bats and gloves. Baseball in the dirt with sliding, catching and throwing, and running. It was billed to the team members as a possible last opportunity to play a game they loved.

The competition was going to be tough. The league included hand-picked traveling teams, tournament-tested teams and other teams that consisted of “baseball” players.

In short, some of the games for the Senators would be like playing cards against a stacked deck. That was okay, though. The young men just wanted to play. So they fit in baseball practice around track, and tennis, and spring break. They got better, but they had so far to go.

The first game started with promise. The Senators had a six-run lead early. They were hitting the ball and making plays. Then the opponent started chipping away at the lead and eventually pulled out a 9-8 victory. The coaches gathered the players and assured them that everything was okay. They had shown promise. Wins were going to come, if they just stayed together, worked hard and believed.

Games came and went with no wins to show. The coaches tried different tactics. They drilled, lectured, coddled, scolded, pleaded and bribed. The players got frustrated, faced some ridicule from their peers on other teams. They got down on themselves, each other and the coaches, but stayed with it.

Which leads us back to the night in June.

Bottom of the seventh, the Senators were hanging on. The sky to the north was now peppered with lightning. The wind picked up, and bits of rain came down. The Athletics loaded the bases with two outs. Those who know the history of the Senators were thinking : well, you know.

THe Heinrich Senators pose after a game. Pictured front row: Mark Thompson, Calvin Morgan, Cory Tindall, Brendon Clark, Alex Johnson, Kennedy Nye. Not pictured: Ben Muiller, Steve Muiller. Back row: Scott Morgan, Dennis Anderson, Eric Anderson, Alex Thompson, Jordan Remington, Jake Schmidt, Kirk Resseguie, Steve Clark.

In almost anticlimactic fashion, though, the Athletics batter hit the ball back to the pitcher. The pitcher fielded it and calmly tossed the ball to first base for the out. It was over and the Senators had their first and only win of the season. The boys jumped around, yelled and pounded their fists in their gloves and patted each other on the back.

It wasn’t the fairytale ending of a team of misfits coming together for baseball glory – not even an extended winning streak. Instead, it was a story of frustration, unmet goals, perseverance, some joy and hope.

Every player learned what it meant to be loyal to a team during times of hardship. Every player learned success is gained through working together and supporting each other. Every player walked away from the season a little more mature than when it began.

The young men, and their coaches, experienced some well-earned life lessons. Who could ask for anything more?