Women's Pro Baseball League Kicks Off Historic Inaugural Season in Illinois

SPRINGFIELD, Ill. — Three hours before game time, hundreds of fans swarmed the construction-lined, rain-soaked parking lot of Springfield's Robin Roberts Stadium. Some lived down the road; most hailed from across the country, and some had come from as far as away as South Korea and Australia.

Carol and Mike Studer, the grandparents of the New York Heights' first baseman London Studer, worried the weather would postpone London's start against the Los Angeles Queens and they'd miss their flight the next morning. One hour later, security parted the gates.

"Am I the very first inside?" yelled a teenage girl holding a baseball mitt as she rushed through a balloon-adorned entrance to be greeted by a custom bobblehead of Queens outfielder Mo'ne Davis.

Staff quietly hurried to tape falling signage to the walls, troubleshoot the jumbotron and cook burgers and hot dogs as rain seeped through the grated ceilings of the exterior walkways. Fans, meanwhile, made a beeline for the merch booth; within hours, sales were capped at two items per fan to accommodate demand. Underneath translucent ponchos, fans donned hats, sweatshirts and T-shirts in support of the league's four teams: the Queens, the Heights, the Boston Hunters and the San Francisco Firebells. Team loyalty was largely arbitrary, though; most said they were simply happy to support the athletes and to be present to witness the league's inaugural game.

Enter the players. The Hunters and Firebells, who would play the following day, wandered the grounds in full uniform. Many were greeted with hugs by their parents and siblings, who'd traveled from across the U.S. and from 11 different countries to witness their daughters and sisters play professionally for the first time. Girls and boys blocked the players' paths to ask for autographs, beaming at their parents as they showed off their newly signed T-shirts, mitts and baseballs.

The weekend marked the start of the Women's Pro Baseball League's inaugural season. Its four host cities — Boston, Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York — were chosen for their history of sports loyalty and market size, yet the opening season will run for six weeks in the geographically central location of Springfield, Ill.

The WPBL is the fifth professional women's baseball league in U.S. history, but Queens' third baseman Ashton Lansdell says, "We hope it's the fifth and the last."

Many of those signed to the WPBL began playing as young as 4 years old, and for many, their baseball trajectories stalled as they came of age and were told they were not allowed to compete alongside boys. But many of the players said the hurdle only fueled their determination to pursue the sport through other avenues.

Baseball For All, a nonprofit founded by WPBL Commissioner Justine Siegal, has supported young women in finding opportunities for organized play in their communities, schools and universities. Many compete in annual competitions, including the Women's Baseball World Cup, and have had stints in regional and seasonal men's leagues. A select few, including Lansdell, Firebells pitcher Kelsie Whitmore and Heights catcher Denae Benites, have even found success in the viral Banana Ball league playing for teams like the Savannah Bananas.

Most players, though, are juggling university studies or moonlight as bartenders, firefighters and architects to support their athletic dreams.

While opportunities for women's baseball have grown in recent years, this is the first time that these women will have a chance to compete and play together for an extended period of time. "I've been practicing so long on my own," said Boston's first baseman, Sabrina Robinson, during preseason training. "It's so different finally playing with other [professionals] in the same place now."

As the rain subsided, the grounds crew scrambled to prepare the field. Players stepped in to help roll up the tarp covering the field as the sold-out crowd settled into damp seats.

Meanwhile, on the third base line, 3-year-old Lenore Wooten took in the view of the field. "She'll never know this was never not a thing," said her mother, Jess.