Editor’s note: This is a first-person perspective from Newtown Bee intern Owen Brown, reflecting on vintage base ball.For those who know me best, baseball has been a core piece of my life for the better part of a decade. Starting at the age of ten in Little League, all the way up until the summer before my freshman year at the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts in North Adams, Massachusetts, every spring, summer, and fall involved me playing the game I love.So when I popped up to second base in my last at bat and got pinch hit for in my last game in the Greater Hartford Twilight Baseball League nearly two years ago, I remember driving home with tears in my eyes, thinking it was going to be the last time I ever would set foot on the diamond as a player. I had the opportunity to continue my playing career in college, but knowing I was never going to be a professional baseball player, I decided to let go of that opportunity in order to put my focus on my education.Of course, life went on, as I am currently studying communications to fulfill my dream of becoming a sports broadcast journalist, covering and interviewing athletes from the college level all the way up to the professional level. Deep inside though, I always had the itch to get back on the field, someway, somehow.That opportunity came roughly two months ago, almost by chance. As I am interning with The Newtown Bee this summer, my very first duty came as I shadowed under Sports Editor Andy Hutchison at an SWC girls’ lacrosse playoff game at Blue & Gold Stadium. It would be there where I met Jason “Mister” Edwards, a teacher and public address announcer for Newtown High School, who played vintage base ball for the Connecticut Base Ball Club (BBC) of Hartford.I talked to Edwards about how I was a former player with the desire to play again. He told me they were always looking for new players, with a tournament coming up at Hilltop Farm in Suffield. I thought to myself, hey, it’s one more weekend of playing some ball, how could I turn that down? Little did I know then what I was getting myself into, and for the better.A few weeks later, after some time getting my swing back and trying my hardest to condition myself back into baseball form, the day finally came. After making the hour-and-a-half drive up to the farm, I was shocked to see that there was no dirt diamond that I was accustomed to playing on back in my childhood, but rather a field made up entirely of long grass. It would be the first of many changes that vintage base ball in 1864 had to offer.No gloves in the field, balls caught on one bounce are considered a hand (or in today’s definition, an out), and much taller and heavier bats (many of which by the way were made by the Bulldog Bat Company based out of Sandy Hook) were just a few of the major differences between then and now. Even the jerseys were different, featuring a shield shirt or lace shirt, along with trousers, and knickers.Even now, despite being a part of the team for over a month at this point, I still have so much to learn. Slowly and surely though, I am catching on.So far, I have played in games up at Suffield and Woodstock, along with a few team practices, but in mid-July, playing in the 13th annual Gettysburg National 19th Century Base Ball Festival hosted by The Elkton Base Ball Club and Exhibition Company in Pennsylvania, has been the icing on the cake for my vintage experience so far. Of course, the five-hour drives to and from there were pretty brutal, but the memories and experiences I got to be a part of more than made up for it.Gettysburg is known for many different events: Battle of Gettysburg and Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address just to name a few. But on this weekend, Gettysburg was known as the festival featuring 30 different clubs from all across the country, including 12 different states, with each team playing in four games.I had the opportunity to play in six games, four with the Connecticut team dressed as the New Haven Bulldogs and the Norwalk Liberty, along with two with the New York Knickerbockers, which was the team that played in the very first base ball game in history back in 1846. In my time playing growing up, I was part of 11 different teams, ranging from recreation, to travel ball, to Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), and to high school ball, but this team was different.Nobody was yelling when someone made an error in the field or had a bad day at the plate, nobody was carrying any sort of arrogance or an ego, thinking of themselves better than the rest of the team, and when the game started, everyone was locked in from the first pitch to the final hand. It truly was everyone playing for the love of the game and for each other, and it was all I ever wanted from a team growing up.Against opposing teams, it was nothing but mutual respect and appreciation for each player sharing the field. Nobody was arguing with the umpire on their decisions during the game, and whenever anyone made a nice play in the field, you would hear players from both sides shouting “well played, sir,” to that individual, or if someone got a good hit, you would hear a “well struck, sir,” coming from both teams as well.Even at the end of every game played, each team lined up on the base paths, with their respective captains giving thanks to all the different aspects that allowed the game to happen, followed by three cheers of “hip hip, huzzah,” to the respective opponent. Just like in the days of Little League too, players would shake hands and say “good game, sir” to their opponents.Team-wise, it was a pretty successful weekend. In my six games, I ended up winning four games, losing one, and tying one, with three of those wins and the tie helping extend The Connecticut Base Ball Club of Hartford’s undefeated streak to 14-0-1 this year. I was able to collect a decent chunk of hits and made a few plays in the outfield as well, making me feel good that I was able to help contribute both offensively, defensively, and vocally to our success. But this was a team effort, make no mistake about it, and everyone was able to do their part in helping keep the undefeated streak alive.The highlight of the weekend for myself though, was a team dinner Saturday night at the Appalachian Brewing Company of Gettysburg (they have a delicious fried chicken sandwich and fish and chips if you ever find yourself down there by the way). This included the team’s Founder and General Manager, Gariputo Cozzarelli, team Captain and catcher, Chris “Grit” Moran, third baseman Brett “Gooch” Berry, shortstop Drew Moran, center fielder Nick “Nick of Time” Hardy, first baseman Ben “Foxy” Fox, team mom Robyn Hardy, and me. It was there when Gariputo made the sudden announcement that with my hard work and dedication to the team, I would be presented with my letters, making me an official member of the club. I was speechless, I was thankful, and I was honored, my emotions were all over the place and I did not know what to think.What I did know, was that I finally found my base ball family, and it has been a true honor getting the chance to share the field with each and every one of them just doing what we love. I also want to take a moment to say thank you to Jeff “Pine Tar” Kornhaas, for not only being a great teammate but also being very influential in my experience on the team so far. From giving me tips to staying healthy and fresh on the field, to enriching my base ball mind with history and information I should know. Without him, I do not know if this experience would have become what it is today.Of course, the job is not finished. Our team still has games coming up all across the northeast, from Hull, Massachusetts, to Long Island, New York, to Warwick, Rhode Island, among other locations. We have the ultimate goal of capturing a Vintage Base Ball Association championship, and for a personal goal of mine, winning the Rookie of the Year award. We still have a long way to go to capture our personal and team goals, but no matter what happens, I am forever blessed and thankful to be a part of this club, and look forward to seeing how not only this season, but future seasons, play out.Intern/reporter Owen Brown can be reached at owen@thebee.com.