Ihadn't seen or spoken to Mike Reachard for at least a year -- he and I had played, managed or coached baseball together or against each other for at least 30 years. Maybe more.

It was probably almost two years since I'd spoken to Rick Stine, and we also were longtime baseball compadres.

As for Gary Ginter, until a couple weeks ago when I spoke to him on the telephone, I hadn't connected with him for 38 years or more.

And Wayne Adams -- well, Wayne and I graduated from high school together. We played high school, American Legion and Central League baseball together. We live within about two miles of each other. But I hadn't had a conversation with him for at least 20 years, maybe 30.

But that all changed Tuesday. Former U.S. Congressman Bill Goodling arranged what I'll call a baseball social to get together former players of the Central Baseball League's Shiloh team.

You might ask why Goodling would do that? Well, because Goodling, in his life before politics, coached the Shiloh team from 1970 to 1973 -- four seasons. And not four winning seasons, either. It's not like he felt a need to rehash a league championship or anything. In fact, the four-year Shiloh record was 47 wins and 101 losses.

Maybe it had something to do with Goodling's age -- he's 81. He'll be 82 in about three weeks. He's definitely well into his twi-
light years.

Goodling might have been feeling the need to reconnect with some of his former players -- all of us now in our 60s -- before one of us or all of us kicked the bucket. Or maybe he just wanted to reassure himself that those four years weren't totally wasted -- that some of his former players, most in their early-20s when he coached them, had managed to turn themselves into civilized human beings as the years passed.

I hope we didn't disappoint him too much.

Or it might have been nothing more than Goodling's understanding of human nature -- that people, even people with shared experiences, don't always make an effort to maintain contact as time moves on. Sometimes it's a physical distance that separates them. Sometimes it's just the business of life, not having enough time, not making enough time.

And he gave us a reason to find time.

I'm glad he did. Because it was great to reminisce, to kick the can around the baseball field a few more times. They weren't all great baseball memories, but they were memories nevertheless. And I enjoyed reliving most of them.

We talked about hitting and pitching and long doubles over the very short right-field wall at the old Broad Street baseball diamond in Shiloh -- it was torn down years ago.

We talked about Rick's dad, Ira, and "Old Man" Myers and Kenny Myers and a lot of the other "old" guys who kept the Shiloh team running with a lot of behind-the-scenes work, while the young guys played.

And we spoke kindly of teammates, young and old, talented or less talented -- mostly guys none of us have seen or heard from in 30 years or more.

We talked of the time one of our young pitchers called time out in the middle of an inning and raced to the old-fashioned outhouse that sat along the left-field foul line. And we all waited -- for 15 minutes or more -- while the pitcher dealt with his upset stomach.

We talked about the same pitcher getting hit in the back with a ball thrown by the catcher -- that would have been me -- when he turned (but didn't duck) to watch a play at second base on a stolen-base attempt.

We talked about a lot of things -- baseball and otherwise -- for a couple of hours. And I'm glad we did.

Because it reminded me that playing baseball is about more than wins and losses, hits and outs, balls and strikes, good calls and bad by the umpires.

Some people won't understand this, but it's just as much about the relationships you make along the way.

I played for 27 years in the Central League and managed/coached another 12 or 13 seasons -- that's a long time. I played on a few championship teams, a few of the worst teams in Central League history and a lot of teams in the middle. All of that counts for something in the league record books, I guess.

In the end, though, it's the people I rubbed elbows with all those years that matter most. And the memories -- it's always about the memories you make.

For four seasons almost 40 years ago, Mike and Rick and Gary and Wayne and lots of other guys wore the same Shiloh uniform. We played for a man who later would serve us as a congressman for 26 years.

It was time well spent all those years ago. It was our passion.

It was time well spent, Tuesday, as well.

Thanks, Coach, for giving us a reason to remember.

Sports columns by Larry A. Hicks, Dispatch colum nist, run Thursdays. E- mail: lhicks@yorkdis patch.com.