Covered head-to-toe in dust from a windy day at Softball City, but otherwise none the worse for wear, I’m proud to report I’ve survived my first day of the Beacon’s Best Softball Tournament.

Though I couldn’t have done it without the help of the fine men and women who helped develop SPF 50 sunscreen. So if you’re out there reading this, take a bow, whoever you are.

And I can easily say, without a doubt, that it was the best slow-pitch softball tournament I’ve ever attended. And we won’t let the small fact that it’s also the only one I’ve attended get in the way. (Which means any moniker I give it, like “least porcupine infested” or “heaviest drinking” would be equally true. The wonders of extreme sampling bias.)

The sad truth is, I don’t think I really let myself enjoy the moment until late in the day, after CBC’s 12th (or maybe it just felt like they hit 12) home run made it clear that there would be no upset to shock the softball world.

That’s when I decided to put down the pen and pad, pop in the iPod, and just enjoy the sun, the scene and the softball.

And that’s when I let myself fantasize. (Don’t worry, not that kind of fantasy.)

I fantasized about being back in the outfield, making diving catch after diving catch to rob CBC of hits — really, guys, nothing against you, but no one ever fantasized about playing against the Tampa Bay (don’t call me Devil) Rays. You always fantasize about beating the best.

I fantasized about pulling a soft lob over the left-field fence — a laughable notion, since I have one career home run to my name, and it was inside the park. And I dreamed of going the other way and lacing one down the line.

And these hits, of course, drove in the game-winning run. Knocks in the second inning are no fun.

But it got me thinking — I just took it for granted that my athletic career was over after high school. But here I was watching men twice my age play on.

And it just goes to show, the drive those fantasies I had were based on — the drive to test yourself against the best; the drive to be put in a tight spot and rise to the occasion; the drive to find out just where your limits are — never leave.

With me, they live on in an active imagination. But for the men who were out on the diamonds in front of me, they lived on in real life.

That’s the gift that softball — not just the Beacon’s Best, but the Sundays in Jefferson, Conneaut or Orwell — gives them. And it’s a gift that keeps on giving.

Now to find myself a batting cage....

n Throughout the day Saturday, I got to see a lot of defeat. It just comes with the territory when you’re watching an insane number of games.