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All local sports need recognition

It’s that ping of a metal bat when it connects with the ball and the sound of family and friends in the stands as they scream and cheer.  It’s that strange smell of dirt and fresh cut grass mixed with the aroma of bubble gum and the odor of a well-oiled leather glove.  To a young boy, these were the sights and sounds that announced the arrival of spring, much more so than any chirping bird or bloom of flowers.
In the fall there was the clank and crack of helmets meeting shoulder pads and the grunts and ...

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