On a dream and a prayer

Sporting News, The, April 4, 1994 by Jean Hastings Ardell

Ila Borders' pitch to be the first woman major leaguer has begun on a small campus in California

A ballpark is a welcome patch of green in concrete landscapes. It also shelters our childhood fantasies. But if you are Ila Borders, a 19-year-old lefthander with the audacious dream of becoming the first female pitcher in professional baseball, a ballpark means much more. It must serve as a safe arena in which to pursue that dream.

Borders' arena sits in a quiet corner of the Southern California College campus in Costa Mesa. It is a plain field, hidden from the rush of traffic on a nearby freeway. On a sunny February afternoon, Borders took the mound for the SCC Vanguards and stepped into history as the first woman to pitch a complete game for a U.S. collegiate men's team. I sat in the bleachers that day and hoped the freshman (freshwoman? nah) had chosen her field well. The intense media coverage can be crushing. Jack ask Pam Postema.

As her classmates milled about in "Jammin' for Jesus" T-shirts and hats that read, "In the Beginning God," I thought Borders may have found her haven. SCC is a Christian college of some 900 students. As a member of the Golden State Conference of the NAIA, the school believes that "opponents are our guests," that umpires' "honesty and integrity are never questioned," and that"an outstanding play deserves a hand -- regardless of who made it." These days, it's easy to smile away such sentiments, but not without some nostalgia.

Borders fits in at SCC. She, too, is devout and says that she loves God, her family and baseball -- though she has been known to mix up the order and name baseball first. In her debut, she stayed within herself and pitched in a blessed state of centeredness. The 12-1, five-hit victory earned her a line in history and another start.

She looks at home on the diamond. Lacking a blazing fastball (she throws in the 70s) she relies upon changeups and curves. Her windup and delivery are smooth and uncomplicated. At 5 feet 10, 160 pounds, she is neither overpowering, nor masculine, nor even particularly jock-like. She is, simply a blue-eyed girl with a baseball in her left hand and an enemy at the plate.

"She is a pitcher, she's not just out there throwing," a veteran freelance scout observed. But he has seen too many baseball prayers die unanswered to join in the surging emotion in the stands when Ila pitches. He knows that most baseball dreams come alive slowly, a pitch, a game, a season at a time.

Borders is a cool one. Early on, she seemed oblivious to our fascination with her, this pony-tailed pitcher who offers an irresistible chance to explore gender, sport and religion. After a game, she will crack her knuckles and tell reporters once again that on the field she wants to be treated as a ballplayer, not a female, Nor has she any idea what the future holds. "It all depends on where my ability levels off, but this season is definitely a beginning," Borders says.

Now she has settled into the rhythm of the season, surviving the good and the disastrous. In her first relief appearance, she gave up a walk and a single, and her teammates booted three ground balls. More than once she has looked around at the media crush and wondered, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Opposing teams have begun using the sort of language the NAIA severely frowns upon. Profanity, of course, has long been used to distract an opponent. But in this case, Borders' strikeout victims et al. are evidently trying to reassert their male superiority over that intruder on the mound. Border says she heard worse playing Little League.

Although Coach Charlie Phillips points out "nobody's ever completely safe," he believes Borders has found her necessary haven. So it is fortuitous that Borders has pitched primarily at home, where the Vanguards' community of fans continues its encouraging cheers, where the coeds sunning themselves atop the concrete block dugout sing an a cappella version of, "Take Me Out to the Ball Game."

Perhaps Borders has indeed found an Eden in which to pursue her dream. I hope so. I also hope her appearances on the mound become so commonplace that we focus upon her performance rather than her gender.

As spring breaks, how easy it is to believe in Ila Borders' dream. How easy to forget how quickly such baseball dreams can wilt. Her future lies in the hands of the gods of organized baseball, known to be a jealous and contentious lot. Right now, must we recall that hidden in this temple we call the national pastime are a thousand ways to mock a dream and sully a soul?

Jean Hastings Ardell is a Corona del Mar, Calif., writer who is at work on a book about women and baseball.