When I wrote a column last Sunday reminiscing about my days playing youth baseball in Pawtucket, I was hoping it would prompt readers to recall their own fond memories of long summer days spent with friends on the ball field.

Fortunately, it did.

It's been highly gratifying, as well as highly entertaining, to read the responses I've received from readers, and so I thought I'd share some of them with you.

There was this, from a man who grew up on Long Island in the '50s, when the Dodgers, the Giants and the Yankees all played in New York City:

"Our favorite times were right after the 3 o'clock school bell rang. Grab the glove, bat and ball, hop on the Green Hornet (my bike) and off to Eagle Avenue School, or Lowry's Lot, or Ollie's Farm -- you get it -- and play 'til dinner.

"Saturdays were even better. Meet at nine at one of the above [fields] and play 'til noon. Then go the nearest deli -- Jewish, German, or Italian, it didn't matter -- pool our meager funds to buy a pound of salami and cheese, and a couple of big hero rolls, and large sodas. Cut the bread with a Scout knife -- or just break it, if too impatient -- chow down like we had never eaten before, and argue Giants, Dodgers, and Yankees, or Mays, Snider and Mantle, or Maglie, Newcombe, or Ford, with our mouths full.

"Then it was back to the diamond -- usually makeshift -- until dinner. Those were the days, my friend, and my grandkids will never know them. What a shame."

A fellow Pawtucket Boys Club league "alum" had this perspective on those games:

"Baseball aside, the overriding experience of that summer league was the opportunity to develop leadership and social skills that would be valuable for a lifetime. Knowing when somebody wasn't having a good day, or putting someone in to hit during a hot streak became a collective, growing experience. Over the years, I can't tell you how many people I've told about the value and enjoyment of those early years playing Boys Club League baseball."

A major league scout who also played in the Pawtucket Boys Club League had a similar outlook:

"I have often praised the concept of the Boys Club League to many in my scouting fraternity from various parts of the country. They all can see how that atmosphere was so much fun. Adults can ruin a good thing."

An older man from Fall River wrote of simpler times:

"I enjoyed reading that article, almost with tears in my eyes, I must say, thinking back to the Depression years of the 1930s, when I was 7-to-9 years old and began playing baseball on what we called the 'Little Field' on the property of the burnt-down Merchant Mill at the bottom of our street.

"We played on that little field because we couldn't get the better, bigger field because either the farmers' trucks were parked there for a market day, or the teenagers would be playing ball there. No one wanted our field because, in clearing the property of the broken-down mill, they broke all the granite into pebbles, which made it extremely difficult to field a grounder, not knowing what kind of bounce the ball would take. It was hard on our baseballs, too. But the nice firemen in our neighborhood were always happy to tape up our battered baseballs.

"We didn't have any sponsors for our teams in those days, but we always had a lot of fun and exciting games, especially when we'd play a team from another neighborhood."

Baseball was played in a variety of neighborhoods in those days.

"Reading Sunday's story," another reader wrote, "I was instantly brought back to my own childhood in the '70s. I grew up in Providence, just three houses from the Dexter training grounds, next to the Armory. That was a time when a 10-year-old boy could grab a glove and bat, walk to the field at 9 a.m., wait for some kids to show up, choose sides, flip a bat for home team, and play all day, 'til the street lights came on, and your family knew where you were.

"The only setback was someone -- anyone -- having a ball. Sometimes, we'd collect as much change as we could and a few guys would bike down to Olneyville to buy a $5 ball. But we all saved 50 cents to get a frozen lemonade when the truck came by.

"Several years later, in '79, a dozen or so of these kids were 15-year-old All-Stars from the Providence Babe Ruth League who won district and state titles. To this day, that team is still the only Babe Ruth state championship team Providence."

Younger readers wrote, too.

"I read the article and loved every word," said a bank manager from Ohio, who'd seen the column online. "I remember baseball like that and, even though I am probably a lot younger than you (I am 27) can very much relate. I remember playing ball with the gloves of the hitting team as bases and ghost runners. The summers seemed like they went on forever. Thanks for taking me back there."