Lion’s Club

In the summer of 95 I believe it was, there was a softball tournament at the Lion’s Park at Elliott’s Cove Pond. And a good time was had by all. The end.

Well that’s a kinda lame story, so will add a couple events. Hopefully I can be forgiven if I’ve mixed multiple events into one.

For some reason I was umpiring that tournament or a lot of it anyway, not because I was necessarily any good, but more because no one else wanted to do it. Umpires of our softball games generally have to make all the calls for all the bases, and outfield as well, so sometimes the point of view can be difficult. That said, I really from that day to this cannot be sure I made the right call, just that I made a call. I can’t even remember specifics now, but for some reason I had called Craig Baker out at first, whether for being thrown out, or for being off the bag or whatever, I don’t recall. What I do recall though was something was said or done, and I threw Craig out of the game. I probably wasn’t amused at the time, but I know everyone else was laughing and I can only laugh now too as Craig took the bag and walked up the road and threw it out in the woods!

The second incident, may or may not have been during the tournament, and since I don’t know the people involved well anymore, will not mention their names, but I’m sure most will remember. Somehow an argument happened between two people around 2nd base. All I can remember, and to this day laugh my ass off was the exchange “Ah, go f$%k a caribou!” and the response “Well you go screw a moose!”

That tournament was also unfortunately the site of an injury when Lisa Critch got her leg broken at 2nd base. Scary play, and so happy she recovered well.

Summer days, where would the be without softball?

Peter Smith

Raised in outport Newfoundland in a town of 65 people, I pursued a post secondary diploma in Information Technology right out of High School.

I’ve always been a geek at heart, but yet I love the rural life I grew up with. Fishing, hunting, camping and the great outdoors are still loves of mine, even if I don’t pursue them as often as I once did. Sports were always a big part of our lives, and I played many (badly) and loved them all.

Every rural area has their one spot where people seem to gather. It’s often a local store, and Berniece’s Variety in Elliott’s Cove was one such place, and deserving of a post of its own before long, but before that, when we were younger, and especially in summer, we had another spot.

Back in the late 70’s or early 80’s, the Random Lion’s Club made and set up bus shelters in all the communities on the island. Painted with the, ahem, lovely lions purple and gold, they became a place to stand out of snow and rain while waiting for the school bus.

But more than that, they became a congregating place for the younger people, and none more so than the one in Snook’s Harbour bottom.

While there was nothing to do there really, it became the place to meet up before doing other things. The fact that the meeting often became the other thing was just part of our lives. We’d spend hours there, chatting, laughing, socializing, gossiping, making up lies, drawing crude graffiti, and generally having a good time. In summer time we’d prop our bikes against it, use it as home base for kick the can, and god knows what else.

Looking across Snook’s Harbour to the mead

It became our spot, and while the memories run together, I can hear us all, Eric, Barry, Bernard, Craig, Jim, Susan, Miss Stephanie, Renee, and many others laughing, yelling, cursing and being young. It was the launching point for our evenings and nights, many meetups there to go elsewhere, including to have a bonfire on the mead pictured.

Peter Smith

Raised in outport Newfoundland in a town of 65 people, I pursued a post secondary diploma in Information Technology right out of High School.