Preparing to pose for photos are, from left, Caleb Taylor, Justin Copeland, Wilson Wages, Jalen Barnhill and Zach Fortman (Monte Dutton photo).

The plan was to watch a baseball game Friday night, but the rains on Thursday, throughout Laurens County, were too severe for play, and I drifted into the Clinton High School cafeteria in much the same manner as young Andy Griffith in “What It Was Was Football,” circa 1953.

The baseball game wasn’t being played, but it was still Senior Night, and this particular crop is highly distinguished because it has won its region championship – No. 3 last year, 4 this – in consecutive seasons, and if any Red Devil team has ever performed this feat, it has eluded the memory of the locals. Football is a right fair bit more documented than other sports.

The Voice of the Red Devils, Guy “Buddy” Bridges, collaborated with his right-hand man, B.J. Gardner, to put together a program of video, photography, ball stories and flower presentations to mamas that lasted just about as much time as a ballgame with Westside would have.

It was worth every minute.

I love baseball more than any other sport – only partially because I never could play it worth a flip in my youth – but also because baseball has a certain intimacy I enjoy when writing about it. I get to know the boys playing baseball better than the boys (and girls) playing other sports. Baseball players must relax in order to play proficiently, or, at least, that’s my observation. When I take photos, often from the dugout of the ballfield, I get to know the lads a little more. If I cracked the jokes I do around a baseball team with, oh, a football team, some of the latter sport’s amped-up athletes might slap me upside the head as if I were wearing a helmet, or they might if they weren’t respectful of their elders.

Basketball players are always on the run: doing layups before the game, running into and out of the locker rooms, driving the baseline and popping the three-pointers. Sometimes I record their comments after the games, but that’s no way to make friends.

This blog might be unduly affected by the diligent research I conducted on the subject of Andy of Mayberry, may he rest in peace.

These Clinton High seniors – Jalen Barnhill, Justin Copeland, Zach Fortman, Zach Lollis, Josh May, Wil Stewart, Caleb Taylor and Wilson Wages – I know a little. I also know the ballplayers at Laurens High and Laurens Academy a little extra, too. Several have been known to play football and basketball, too. The whole athletics program is rife with championship-caliber teams.

The Clinton team is 18-3, 8-0 in Region 4-3A, and plays Broome, its region mate a season ago, on Tuesday when the playoffs commence. The football and basketball boys won the region this school year, too, not to mention girls and boys tennis.

I drifted into the cafeteria for burgers, potato chips, baked beans and artfully decorated cake – a man of my current means can ill afford to pass up a free supper – and then into the auditorium, where I sat in the back taking it all in.

If anyone in the audience wasn’t thanked for all their great deeds, I missed it. It didn’t get ridiculous till I got thanked.

Bridges, who would in my estimation make a fine guest preacher at a revival, played each young champion’s “walk-up music,” spoke warmly and fervently of each and then played, with the assistance of Gardner, specially selected musical numbers in order to honor the mamas whose sons presented them with bouquets and received heartfelt hugs.

By gosh, it all reminded me of an episode of The Andy Griffith Show, which, after lo these many years, I still watch from time to time.