For Softball Team, It’s Not Another Day at the Yard

Amber Connally, a 15-year-old freshman softball player for Fountain Valley High, was barely taller than the trash container she was hauling behind her. In front of Connally stood one of those giant dumpsters seen so often at construction sites.

The problem--lifting that trash container into the dumpster and emptying it. The solution--”Help,” Connally yelled. But nobody answered. Eleven of her teammates were too busy themselves, so Connally somehow wrestled the container up and into the dumpster. Then she jumped down and started all over again.

On a dreary Saturday morning this softball team had gathered at a tiny, stucco house in Orange to make things better. This is a tidy neighborhood off Chapman Avenue. Even before 9 on the weekend morning, there were lawn mowers puttering in many of the other yards. There were women trimming bushes and children pulling weeds.

In the middle of all this tidiness, one house stood out. A mentally disabled man, alone for a year after his mother died, had been unable to care for the yard. Christmas in April, Orange County, a program that provides home repair to the county’s elderly, low-income and disabled homeowners, had added this home to its list of projects. Fountain Valley softball Coach Cary Baker knew of the program and of this particular project.

He asked his girls if they would be willing to help, and Baker received a unanimous yes.

So 12 teenage girls were up at 6 Saturday morning. Freshmen Connally and Diana Rodriguez; sophomore Christina Skaggs; juniors Kristin Crowder, Jackie Brown, Jenny Doezi and Kirin Kumar; and seniors Sarah Leon, Nicole Rambis, Natalie King, Tiffani Miller and Inez Vasquez met at Fountain Valley and arrived together at the little house.

Wearing jeans and Christmas in April T-shirts, the girls were stunned upon viewing the work ahead of them.

The weeds, grass and plants had grown knee-high in the front, back and side yards. Michael, the resident of the house, peeked out and said, “I’ve seen possum in there.” Jaws dropped. Kumar said, “I’m not afraid of the hard work, but what if there are snakes in there? At our house we have a gardener.”

All the girls agreed that if their parents had asked them to get up on a Saturday morning and do yardwork, the answer would be no.

“But this is a way to make a difference in the community,” Leon said. “This will bring us even closer as a team,” Miller said.

Baker said he thought this would be a good thing for many reasons.

His team is 14-5 this year and, Baker said, “The girls are used to feeling good about themselves and getting recognition for their athletic accomplishments. They get pats on the back for winning ballgames. Today I’d like to see them feel good about themselves for another reason, for helping another person and maybe get some pats on the back for doing something not at all related to sports.”

The girls worked in near silence. There was no joking, no banter. No one stood around or tried to look busy while not really working. They had to be encouraged to take rest breaks, to stop and drink water. And the mess they confronted could have been discouraging.

There were abandoned appliances in the yard, broken bottles hidden in the weeds. There was a stone pool of filthy, fetid water in the frontyard and branches twisted among brambles, thorns that would pierce the cotton gloves that some girls wore.

One of his players fought to trim a branch using a small pair of scissors. Baker pointed and said, “There’s no way those scissors will cut that branch, but she’ll get it trimmed somehow.” And sure enough, the job got done.

David Price, a member of the Christmas in April board of directors, said, “People can make a tangible contribution to their community. At the end of the day we see the results of our work. Making a real, direct difference is a reward that keeps volunteers coming back year after year.”

After an hour of work, the girls could already see results. They could walk from the frontyard to the backyard instead of hacking their way through weeds and brush. The giant dumpster was a quarter full. Neighbors looked over and nodded approval. Rambis said it was the hardest work she’d ever done. “I’d probably still be sleeping on a normal Saturday,” she said. “But you can really feel yourself making a difference and that feels good.”

The plan for the future is for regular care of the yard. But not until the heavy, hard, sweaty work was done. It did not cheer the girls when rain fell Friday night. Sneakers were getting wet and muddy. Gloves were soaked through. There was no softball game so backbreaking, no practice so exhausting.

And yet the results would be better than a 1-0 victory in the playoffs. Inside the house a man alone peeked out the window and smiled. Outside the house a yard began to emerge. You could almost play softball here now.

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Diane Pucin can be reached at her e-mail address: diane.pucin@latimes.com.